


Until Further Notice

by lostinfictionalworlds



Series: Until Further Notice [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Businessman!Kurt, Completed, M/M, Multichapter, PersonalAssistant!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 129,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinfictionalworlds/pseuds/lostinfictionalworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Money can't buy happiness. Businessman Kurt is still trying to figure that one out, and performer Blaine thought he knew what he wanted, until he came across a Personal Assistant Ad. A story of acceptance and love, from one's self and that of others, more specifically, one other.<br/>Sequel- Until Forever now complete. Check it out :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N This story uses asterisks to show jumps in timelines, however from my last story I learnt that they don’t always show up, it depends on what app or site is being used to read.
> 
> Thank you, I hope you enjoy reading.

…

 

Job Title: Personal Assistant

 

Location: New York City, Manhattan

 

Job Type: Full Time

 

Blaine’s hand slowed from its incessant clicking and pulled back, the tiny cursor on the screen landing back where it was, highlighting the content, his eyes perusing the screen more carefully. Blaine could travel to Manhattan from Queens, not a problem.

 

Work Pattern: 6 Days over 7, Two Weekends off per calendar month

 

Huh, that’s a lot of time, a lot of work, but what else did Blaine have to do that was so important? Whoever it was who required the need of an assistant for that length of time must be some crazy-busy and very successful dude, or lady. Blaine could work with that, it would definitely be something to boast about on future applications. 

 

Start Date: ASAP.

 

Experience: Preferred but not essential

 

Education Level: N/A

 

This was all suited to him perfectly so far, not exactly what he had in mind when looking over job applications and vacancies, this wasn’t a role he had ever thought ‘this is what I want to be’ but there was something here that caught his attention, something he knew he could do, and do well. This was the only advertisement that he had actually taken an interest to, and he couldn’t understand why.

 

Blaine had spent most of the gray, rainy April’s Sunday afternoon glued to the screen of his laptop whilst huddled up in his armchair in his Queens, NY apartment. He had logged on just after waking up with the sounds of the rain pattering against his bedroom window this morning. 

 

He’d padded to his bathroom naked and yawning, shoulder cracking and scratching at his stomach. His body started to awaken and warm with the falling droplets from the shower head above him as his forehead rested against the cool damp tile of his shower stall, an arm sprawled just above his wet mop of hair, as he panted and thrust his hips and himself up into his own tight fist again and again until he groaned deeply, releasing his morning pleasure weakly over the walls a little breathlessly until the water washed it away.  
He never knows where it still comes from, that, he was sure that, that, had all but dried up much like everything else, at least it brings him a small segment of delight in some way for the day ahead.

 

Afterward he pulled on some sweats and poured some coffee into his mug, pushed on his reading glasses and sat at his small breakfast bar, chewing on a multi-grain whilst his small gray tabby cat woke from his bed over on the wooden tiled floor and made his way over, wounding his way through Blaine’s dangling legs. Disinterestedly and tiredly, bored to sickness, he flicked through site after site. 

 

He stopped for brunch, connected to his Xbox in his living room and joined in some sort of match whilst swallowing his creamed cheese and bacon bagel with his free hand. After losing and throwing some only-half polite words into the mic of his head set, he closed the game and reached for his laptop, starting his search again.

 

Salary: $40,000 per year. 

 

What? What sort of money is that for fetching coffee and cakes, filing away some papers, calling up buildings and function rooms to hold meetings at.  
Forty-Thousand big ones, just for that? 

 

Blaine wasn’t poor, not really, his student loan days were well behind him and he had proudly been able to save a little each month from tips, the odd bursaries his parents would send during school and college, earnings and wages from the various jobs he had held under his belt, whilst working hard and vigorously trying to make the best of himself like every other wide eyed and strong shouldered student trying to prove themselves. 

 

But money would, it could, run out if he wasn’t careful, and sometimes maybe he did struggle from living alone, but finding a roommate was beyond questioning now. 

 

That kind of salary could really make a difference to him, he would only have to use just a little of it each month for bills and daily living and then the rest could be built up over a couple of years or so, he could use that money to get out of his rut of a life and start a fresh, he could go anywhere he wanted, anywhere, could be who and what he wanted to be. 

 

Job Summary:  
Seeking a high quality, Personal Assistant, Requirements as follows:  
• Discreet, honest, loyal and trustworthy and highly flexible  
• Able to manage confidential information  
• Exceptional organizational and multi-tasking skills  
• Strong with following-up and attention to detail  
• Proficient in computing and most word programs  
• Ability to prioritize and meet effective deadlines.  
• Excellent communication skills.  
-Candidate must be willing to sign a Non- Disclosure Agreement-

 

All of that is completely understandable, and completely do-able, Blaine had that experience, he had those qualities. Blaine although he already knew it, had been told on countless occasions that he was ever the charmer, he could silence a room with the sound of his smooth voice, he could worm his way in and out of any situation, and not in a bad smarmy kind of way. He just had that likeable, controlling quality about him. 

 

Blaine was a kind and polite boy, smart and wise, born and raised on proper manners and education, tutored at private school and then sent off to Boston to study Music and whatever else he was hell bent on studying, to later graduate at the top of his class. 

 

Yes Blaine was your typical boys’ boy back during his youthful educational years, he and his old high school friends did some things that they probably shouldn’t talk about out of the circle of their group, he had some verbal-fights with his parents that escalated too quickly and stemmed from the most ridiculous things, and then there was that summer when he set fire to his brothers hair, just a little, which is never, ever to be spoken of again. 

 

But Blaine was a good boy, he was different to most his age because he could be that fun loving jack-the-lad sort but he also cared, deeply, about himself and others, and was extremely dedicated to his work and future, his aspirations and dreams, he followed them and succeeded to a certain level. 

 

The only problem, if you could call it that, with Blaine was his big heart, and how he couldn’t help but feel, he couldn’t help but feel affected by what people thought of him, he wanted, needed to feel loved.  
He was a people pleaser and that’s what mattered to him the most, and that’s also why he was where he was in his life right now, he cared too much. He listened too much to other’s opinions about his abilities and forgot about his own outlooks and his own wants. 

 

Blaine is now a good boy turned to impeccable young man, honest and good willed, head strong, and maybe his handsome looks set him apart from the crowd also, with his dark curls cut short and styled, a slight shadow over his strong jaw even though he shaved most days. He boasts a small compact body, but strong built, with tight thighs and calves, a broad chest and thick muscled biceps which are highlighted under the strain of his tight fitting polo shirts and Henley’s, from his daily runs and the remnants of his high school boxing days. 

 

If interested and suited to this post, please send an appropriate resume and a short covering letter to;  
Carole at khenterprizes@hmail.com

 

Blaine hadn’t recognised the name nor the email address instantly, but that didn’t phase him for some reason, his mind was too fuzzy on this opportunity, on how much he cared and also didn’t at the same time, he’d given up on looking for the things he wanted, he’d now give anything a shot.  
This is an opportunity for Blaine, a new venture from a different angle that he could quite possibly highly achieve in, he could prove himself, this is something he needs, if given the chance.  
What would it hurt in just checking it out a little further? 

 

His daily mental positivity quota was already being dented with each failed application, with each hour spent daydreaming about the what ifs and why me’s.  
It will be nice meeting somebody new, extending his comfort zones and horizons, he might make a new friend.

 

\--Please Note- This position is residentially required and successful applicant will remain contracted until further notice.—

 

…

 

Residential? Interesting. Why would a personal assistant be needed to live within the same walls as their employer. Blaine quickly scrolled back up making sure he hadn’t missed out the ‘Nanny to three kids’ part or anything.  
Nope, nothing about kids or pets, or a carer of any sort.

 

Could Blaine do this, that? Could Blaine give up his little home? Could he move to Manhattan, though not very far away, and wasn’t like he lived within an appropriate distance to anybody who mattered anyway.  
Could he live under the same roof with somebody he didn’t know? Somebody he worked for?  
Could he take this chance, a chance he’s been waiting for, it could be for better or for worse, could he be brave?

 

Yes. He could.

 

Why the hell not? There was nothing else to lose. 

 

*

 

Blaine wipes his moist palm over his knee, hoping that it wouldn’t leave a mark on his black slacks. He twists the pen in his fingers and taps it against the paper filled clipboard. Fiddles with his bow tie with his free hand, pulling it this way and that and peeks down at his shoes, making sure they are still shining and smudge free.

 

Why is he nervous? He’s done this so many times, ok well not this exactly. He’s never applied for a job which requires him to pack up his life, if he could call it that. He’s never before heard back from an application so quickly and been called in for immediate interviewing, without doing any research or background on the company or person he’s interviewing for, not like he had time to do any of those things. 

 

He taps the pen to his bottom lip lightly before returning it to the paper, the small room he is sitting in is so quiet, that the scratch of the pen denting the paper’s surface sends gooseflesh over the dark hairs of his forearms, covered by his long sleeved light blue button down. 

 

…

 

Standard friendly questioning, to allow us to get to know you a little more comfortably, confidentiality is highly respected and followed.  
Please answer the following truthfully;

 

Full name: Blaine Devon Anderson  
Age: 26  
Marital Status: Single  
Place of Birth: Westerville, Ohio  
Currently Residing in: Queens, New York  
First Language: English/American  
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual  
Religion: None  
Health history: No problems  
Smoke/Drink: Never smoked. Drink once or twice a week  
Academic/Career highlights, favourite past times, interests:

 

…

 

Blaine sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and lifts his head thoughtfully, he glances around the small room he’s sitting in, an office on the Twenty-something floor of a Manhattan building. The room is light and airy, painted cream with minimal décor and two large caramel coloured fabric couches, one in which he’s perched on the edge of with his knees pressed together where the clipboard rests atop them. 

 

It looks like an office waiting room that has been very hastily put together, there is still a lingering hint of freshly added paint mixed with the sweet aroma of the floral plug-in air freshener that’s in the wall in the corner next to the plastic potted plant. 

 

When Blaine stepped off of the elevator he was greeted instantly by a lady who looked to be in her late Forties maybe, with cropped Blonde hair, a lovely face and a bright smile. She wore a sharp looking dove gray pants suit and handed him the clipboard, and asked him politely to fill out the form and with a not so subtle flick of her warm eyes over Blaine’s smartly dressed body she disappeared through a closed door.

 

That had been Twenty-Five minutes ago, and nobody had came through that door since, or from the elevator lobby, through the open archway. With a job opportunity like this Blaine thought he would be just one in a long line of hopeful applicants. 

 

Blaine can just hear voices from the other side of the mahogany door, sounds like two people, bickering and debating, both a little high and soft, one pitched with a tone of supposed disinterest, like a whiney teenager being told to eat their greens because they’re good for them and they just should.

 

Blaine blows out a breath and glances down at the last question on his form, he closes his eyes and really thinks. There are about a hundred and one things that he could scribble down on that page right now. 

 

There’s his recurring award of employee of the month at his first summer job, performing with his buddies back in the day at school events, themes parks and summer camps. His promotion from sales clerk to weekend manager at the music store he worked at during college, his further promotion to part time music teacher.  
Graduating with honours and moving to New York to start a career and a life, his life. Sharing a studio apartment with three other guys, laughing and making music and videos until sunrise, and the day that he was able to afford his own place and venture off on his own.  
Being asked to perform at a Gay Pride event, the abundance of twitter followers he’d received afterwards, the parties and wedding receptions he had been booked to perform at.  
He thinks about every bar and bistro he has played at all hours of everyday, every stage he has climbed up on with his guitar strapped to his side, every owner he has playfully begged to get a piano or keyboard for their stage for him to use.  
Every standing ovation he’s received and every request, for him, to watch and to listen, to him. 

 

To name a few.

 

Blaine scrunches his closed eyes and lets the tip of the pen hover over the page, the door creaks open and the voices beyond it hush, only allowing the sounds of Blaine’s breathing fill his ears. He glances down once more as a shadow settles over the threshold.

 

“Mr Anderson?” The nice lady from before is peering out from the door, her hand extended to him, fingers wiggling gesturing him forward. He looks up, eyes a little wide and lips pursed in some form of frustration.

 

“You can come right in now, honey,” He stands, his face softening into just one of his trademark smiles, lips together and dimples peeking out on his cheeks. He clips the pen to the top of the board, flattening his pants with his free hand and stepping forward.

 

The last space is left blank, he has those things, those memories, those likes. Or he had them, and does not know where they have gotten to now, that part of him feels empty now, like the bottom of the page in his hand, waiting to be filled once more. 

 

*

 

The new room in which Blaine finds himself situated in is a little larger than the previous room, with clean neutral shaded walls and carpets but still does not look like a typical office, not the ones that Blaine remembers seeing on TV programs and movies. There’s no computer or waste paper basket, no filing cabinets even. The whole back wall is a line of clear windows looking down onto the busy streets below, there’s an almost empty bookshelf and radio set up in the corner next to an old looking chair and a collection of bright paintings hanging from the walls in no real order. There is a handbag sitting on the floor and a copy of Vogue open at the middle section, with a rain coat folded neatly beside them.

 

He’s seated on a comfortable leather chair at a wide oak desk in the centre of the room with a stack of blank papers pressed down with a clear flower shaped paper weight and a pencil pot sitting in the corner. 

 

“I’m Carole,” and she offers a bright smile once again and a hand over the surface of the desk which Blaine takes and shakes immediately with a light head nod.  
This all seems a little odd somehow, he thinks.

 

“Blaine, it’s nice to meet you-”

 

“Oh you too dear, how sweet, may I?” She nods to the clipboard lying on the desk beside Blaine under his palm and he nudges it forward with a slide of his finger. She picks it up and Blaine watches as her eyes scan his words sideways and up and down. Her lips curl at the side and she hums quietly to herself, clearly enjoying what she’s reading, for some reason. 

 

“Oh you missed that last part out honey, did you need more time?” Carole reaches for a pen from the little pot, her mouth shaping into a small pout, her lashes spreading widely.

 

“Oh um no, no thank you, I um, there’s too much to say that’s all, where to begin-” He looks up to the ceiling in a humorous frantic gesture and forces a small chuckle as Carole smiles at him, her fingers picking out a pen and uncapping it.

 

“Well just give me a word honey, anything, we gotta have something on there-” Their eyes meet and Blaine can almost sense a mothering vibe from the lady opposite him, something positive and encouraging like she’s rooting for him, willing him to do good, to say something good.

 

“Oh um, ok, uh, music? Uh yeah just write music I guess.” Carole’s eyes light up for a fraction and her pink stained lips part into a wide grin.

 

“Perfect,” she mutters, as she scribbles the word down and recaps the pen, “yes I think he’ll like this very much-” Blaine almost doesn’t catch those last words as she stands suddenly and walks over to a door in the side wall, which Blaine has just noticed is there. There is a sliding catch just above the door handle, Carole unclips the paper and folds it, sliding the little door along, opening just enough to slot the paper through then closes it again. 

 

She turns around, her hands clasped in front of her and bobs a little bit on her heeled toes, and Blaine finds her completely endearing, although this whole setup does really seem a little strange but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

 

“So um, Blaine, what happens now is, um, well the job, it’s for-”

 

The door behind Carole creaks open quickly, the handle dropping down and then up, and Carole steps to the side, well its more of a controlled stumble whilst unable to hide her smug looking smirk, like she won some sort of bet or something. 

 

Blaine who is still sitting in his chair with his legs crossed neatly underneath and his hands folded over his knees, turns a little bit towards the door, neck craning a little see, his smile still intact, as professional as he can muster. Alarms bells are starting to ring in his head, but not the frantic ‘get out of here now’ kind, he is highly intrigued right now.

 

Carole bends over to pick up the bag and coat from the floor, she tucks the magazine neatly under one arm and when she completely moves out of the way of the now open doorway, Blaine’s breath catches in his throat, eyes widening and glazing with surprise.

 

Blaine has had many reasons to feel a little surprised this morning, the barren makeshift office, Carole who is just lovely but certainly doesn’t appear to do this, whatever it is she’s doing, very often, the immediate referral for interview, the surprise in himself for coming here, the curiosity that is still seeping from him.

 

But when his eyes catch with the wide clear blue ones of the man standing in the doorway, he feels a different sort of surprise, something that settles deep within the pit of his stomach, and it both excites and terrifies him.

 

The man watches him, deeply, for what feel likes very long ticking seconds, almost as if he’s waiting for something, waiting for Blaine to do or say something. Blaine cannot look away, the man’s eyes are not just blue, Blaine can see with every subtle movement that the man’s face makes and the way the sunlight catches him, his iris’s swirl from blue to green to grey, like a sea under a storm cloud, utterly captivating. 

 

Carole swoops in and hugs the man, her face pressed to his chest and her arms wrapped tight around his waist, he’s taller than her, Blaine can see just by looking at him that he’s taller than himself also, and his chin rests lightly on her head as they embrace briefly.

 

Unprofessional is not the first word that goes through Blaine’s head, but he knows, he knew, that this wasn’t an ordinary business set up, this is some kind of family affair, he can see that now. He averts his gaze to the window as he hears them speak quietly into each others ears.

 

“I have to go catch my plane now honey, I think we’ve found what we’ve been looking for hmm, be good-”

 

“Carole-”

 

“Trust Kurt, just have faith sweetheart,”

 

Kurt, his name is Kurt. Blaine doesn’t know if he was supposed to hear or not, he couldn’t help but hear no matter how hushed they were, but something tingles up his spine and settles within the deep cut of his jaw, something weird and different yet fascinating.

 

The two pull apart and Carole hurries over to the other door where Blaine came in from, she turns on her heel and waves jovially at Blaine.

 

“Good luck Blaine, I look forward to seeing you again some day.”

 

Huh. He has just enough time to wave a hand with a twisted grin and then she’s gone.

 

Blaine shifts and resettles in his chair, he looks to find Kurt now standing opposite him in front of the desk, just starting to slowly lower himself into the chair where Carole had been sitting. The sun from the window behind him beams in hot and bright and literally illuminates his face and his hair like an actual halo. 

 

Blaine swallows hard. His hair is a mixture of browns and dark blondes, maybes a hint of copper and bronze too, it’s swept up high into a neat style off of his brow, but there are strays peeking out from all around, like a controlled messy style, it looks good, too good.

 

His features are hard and stone like, brooding and Blaine can tell that he’s trying to be intimidating but not coming off all that successful, well not on Blaine anyway. A slight tremor runs up his defined jaw, fuzzed with a very soft layer of light stubble, and he blinks those weirdly wonderful eyes, once then twice, long lashes fluttering down and over and up again, and he’s nervous, Blaine has worked out, Kurt is nervous too.

 

Kurt swallows, his Adams apple bopping over the column of his pale throat, his skin tone is pale all over, like cream and strawberries combined and Blaine knows it will be smooth and soft to the touch. His nose and cheeks are chiselled and there is not anything about this guy that Blaine can stop looking at, but Kurt is remaining silent, looking intently back at him and as unnerving as it should be Blaine happily takes the opportunity to just watch.

 

His suit certainly doesn’t look like anything that Blaine could afford within a minute’s notice, it’s a charcoal gray, fitted impeccably and clinging in all of the right places. His shoulders are wide, stretching under his suit jacket the black button down shirt he’s wearing underneath, unbuttoned casually at the collar with a sneaky wedge of skin peaking out. His legs seem to go on for days and his dark patent leather shoes look like something from a runway and Blaine is a little sad that the bottom half of his body has disappeared under the wooden top of the desk for now.

 

God what is he doing, Blaine has never checked anybody out before, if that’s what it is, well not like this, certainly not somebody he may be working for, he doesn’t know where this has came from, yes the guy is actually unfairly beautiful, but it’s not like he hasn’t seen beautiful guys before. Well none like him, not this close.

 

Blaine now suddenly notices how young Kurt looks and his heart skips a beat of uncertainty in his chest, he cant be any older than himself, maybe younger, and Blaine thinks, he wonders, maybe this business is Carole’s and Kurt is her son and he works the forefront. Maybe Blaine is applying to be the personal assistant of an assistant, sort of. God, great. 

 

Blaine doesn’t know what he expected, who he expected to meet and to work for, but it wasn’t this man. It wasn’t Kurt. And something still thrills inside of Blaine, something he can’t quite put his finger on.

 

“So as you probably heard just now, I’m Kurt, Kurt Hummel-”

 

Blaine startles a little but doesn’t let it show as Kurt starts speaking and then pauses, as if he’s waiting for something to happen again, his voice is soft and high but pitched low, determined and serious but like he’s trying to sound bored somehow, almost, Blaine finds him completely enthralling.

 

“Blaine, um Anderson, it’s a pleasure to meet you Kurt, thank you for this opportunity today,” Blaine extends his arm and his hand over the surface of the desk towards Kurt, his smile stretching his lips and eyes twinkling. 

 

Kurt’s eyes linger on Blaine’s face and Blaine knows that he has been caught within the depths of his honeyed green eyes, which swirl and mix with each new shade of light he’s in. Blaine has heard many comments about his eyes before, he’s even found himself lost in the bright shining pools when fixing his hair in the mirror, he knows how they darken and glow when utterly taken in a moment of pleasure, how they glaze and widen when he’s sad.  
How they sizzle when looking at something he finds truly and deeply interesting, like now. 

 

Kurt blinks and glances down for half a second before curling his fingers around Blaine’s and jerking their hands up and down quickly before retreating.Blaine thinks he can see a very small smirk hiding at the corner of Kurt’s pink lips. And yes his skin is as soft as he thought it would be. 

 

“Yes well, thank you for coming here today, I don’t want to bore you with a lifetime full of details, so-”

 

“Oh I don’t think you could bore me Kurt-” Kurt’s eyes flash, something between annoyance and humour and down right joy and his gaze flickers over Blaine’s charming expression. 

 

He continues, unfazed, or trying to act like it. “Kurt Hummel Enterprizes, is um, it’s my company, my business-”

 

Oh. Blaine’s brain gives a flicker of recognition, maybe something he’s read in the NY Times, or something. But nothing in his brain is fully up to scratch right now, the rational part seems to be only semi-working, and all doubts from before, doubts about the room they’re in, the not so professional set up and whatever it is he is actually here for today, those thoughts and doubts are starting to dissipate. 

 

“We’re-the business is, um I am taking on what feels like a boat load of work at the moment, branching out, new territory, and so a personal assistant to accompany me and help ease some of the stress and bulk is the next best step for me, for the company, I’ve decided.”

 

Blaine nods, his hands folding over his knees again neatly, patiently waiting for Kurt to continue, to expand.

 

“So is that, um is this is something you’re interested in, something you’re capable of, you think?”

 

Oh wow, that’s it? No more explanation? Blaine lifts his hands to the desk, drumming his fingers lightly over the edge, he tries to think of questions, tries to think of rational reasonable things to say, things he needs to know about a new job, one which will be so demanding, so full on.  
He thinks hard, trying to pull up something intelligent sounding and also truthful and meaningful to say.

 

“Yes, absolutely.” He comes up with instead. Ok so there’s that too, whatever. 

 

Kurt’s whole face softens in that moment, his perfectly curved eyebrows raise upon his brow, and he suddenly looks so youthful, so innocent. A delighted look flicks across that beautiful face and Blaine can tell that he’s fighting to conceal it.  
And then it’s gone again as quick as it came, and those features and those piercing eyes harden, like he’s afraid he’s been caught.  
He straightens up in his chair, flicking his fingernails of his thumb and forefinger together absentmindedly. He clears his throat. 

 

“So a music major in Boston? Honours, top of your class, a whirlwind success?”

 

Blaine tenses a little and feels a slight flush creep up his neck, he doesn’t know why. “Um y-yes sir, Berklee.”

 

Kurt stiffens a little, and Blaine is unsure why, though he is already picking up on Kurt’s sultry vibes, he already understands Kurt’s character and personality, he gets that Kurt is stern even though he doesn’t want to be. Blaine likes it, he likes him, more than he should at this stage.

 

“You hail from Westerville Ohio?” Blaine nods and smiles, he’s normally a little more vocal, a little more expressive but his tongue feels thick, he just wants to listen to Kurt, he just wants to watch. 

 

Kurt’s lips twitch and he lifts his strong chin. Blaine’s eyes wander to his very subtle fuzzy jaw and neck, “Lima for me, my family still live there,” Blaine nods in understanding and he wants to ask but Kurt beats him to it, “Carole’s my step-mother, she helps out whenever she can, whenever she wants.”  
Blaine nods again, starting to feeling a little coy, like a deer caught in headlights unable to do anything but move his head and bat his long dark lashes in wonder. 

 

Kurt tilts his head to the side slightly, his gaze falling like he’s taking Blaine in, appreciating almost but not in a too obvious way, just enough. “I like your bowtie,”  
Oh verbal whiplash. Blaine’s hand automatically drops to the silk royal blue and white striped bow tie at his throat and he pats over it gently.

 

“Oh um, thank you, I don’t wear them now, as much as I used to-”

 

“You had a collection?”

 

“You could say that-” Kurt bites his lip and Blaine draws in a quick shallow breath, a little noisier than preferred. Kurt releases the flesh from his teeth and wraps his knuckles on the table, he’s trying to keep up this façade, this whatever it is, Blaine can tell.  
Blaine has always been a good judge of character.

 

“So Music’s your thing huh?”

 

“Um yes, I guess so, it has-”

 

“Why are you here? A man of your age. Why are you not out there making this music? Your resume is certainly impressive Mr Anderson, what brings you here, now, to me?” 

 

Blaine swallows hard, his chest thumping. He doesn’t know. His mind runs back to what Kurt has just said ‘a man of your age’ surely Kurt, and Carole, could have chosen somebody younger if it mattered?  
But for some strange reason that seems to rise from the depths of him, he’s glad and he doesn’t care, he’s glad that he’s here, with Kurt, and it’s starting to not just be because of the possible job ahead of him. 

 

“I guess, that uh, that I’m just looking for something new, not different entirely, just new, I um, I honestly don’t know what else to say, gosh I’m so sorry, I’m normally so much more pulled together, I-I just-”

 

A soft tickling sound fills the air and Blaine’s ears and he looks to find Kurt laughing quietly behind the back of his hand, a giggle so quiet and so soft, and Blaine can hardly believe it, it’s so surprising, so wonderful. Even covered by his hand Blaine can see the cute scrunch of his nose and how wide his lips are spread in delight. Kurt pulls himself out of it with a small cough as Blaine’s parted lips twitch up into a dazzling smile.

 

They share a look, for no longer than two seconds and Blaine’s stomach feels like it’s rising up into his ribcage.

 

“When can you start Mr Anderson, uh, Blaine?” 

 

“Wha-oh, uh-”

 

“Did you have any other questions? You’re ok with the residential request right? You’ll have no bills or facilities to pay for, you’ll have you’re own chauffeured car and your wages that you earn will be yours to do with what you wish,” Blaine blinks once and then twice, trying to store everything to memory. It’s so much, it’s so fast, it’s so new. 

 

“I-um, do you mind me asking about the residential requirement? Not that I mind it, I-I guess I’m just curious-”

 

“My work takes me to a variety of places, at all hours of the day, sometimes unscheduled, I’m um, I’m requested to appear at a lot of events, more frequently now. I fund a lot of campaigns and ambassador for a lot of charities, that sort of stuff,” He waves a hand in the air while his gaze lifts to the ceiling and continues. “Sometimes I need somebody with me when I go to such places, or even just have someone there in the background of my meetings and appointments, being under one roof, together, it’s, it will just be…easier.” 

 

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement of facts, it sounded rehearsed even, Kurt drawls the words with a look past Blaine’s head before returning his gaze, but Blaine nods like he understood, like he was accepting, like he wanted it. 

 

“And, don’t worry, there’s plenty of space, we won’t be finding ourselves on top of each other… that much.” Kurt drawls with a hint of humour and teasing to his tone.  
Blaine feels his jaw slacken and his lips dry up, he flicks his tongue fleetingly over to moisten them some and Kurt does not miss the action though he pretends like he did. 

 

Kurt offers a tight smile and flicks his gaze away, feigning disinterest. “There will be a Six month probationary period, and in that time I can help assure that you still have a home if this position turns out to be dissatisfactory for you, any further questions?” 

 

With a deep unwavering look into Kurt’s eyes, unsure where the rush of confidence has came from, he thinks, hard. A tornado of thoughts running through his mind, it all seems so dream like, like he’s won the lottery, something off of one of those ridiculous rom-coms, sort of.  
There are a million other questions he should ask, there are a thousand things he should want to know. How long has the business been running for? What exactly is the business? How has Kurt got to where he is right now in his life? Where will his new home be, Kurt’s home? He wants to know how old Kurt is, he wants to know him. Is Blaine even allowed to ask these things? Is he allowed to know?

 

What if it didn’t work it out? What if this was the worst decision he’d ever made, or what if it was the best?

 

He doesn’t quite understand, where it’s coming from this sudden need for exploration of all kinds, an almost dangerous daring streak of wanting the unknown, of not caring enough anymore, of easily letting it, himself, all go in favour of one new chance.  
Because right now, he is sitting in front of Kurt, a man he has just met, a man so dangerously attractive, mysterious and a tad on the edgy side.  
Who is just oozing power from the tips of his fingers and pads of his toes and yet there is something so incredibly vulnerable about him.  
Blaine just wants to sit unlimited and look into his eyes and pull every story from the man’s mind and just know him. 

 

Blaine thinks about whatever problems he ever thought he had, the lull he believes he is experiencing, and somehow he thinks, that if at least for now, he has found someway to feed his starvation for excitement and new and more.  
Right now the job is becoming secondary, and the thought both petrifies and thrills him to no amount.

 

The ad had said until further notice, this may not be permanent, this may not last, but Blaine has grown tired of giving up chances before he has even had the time to seek them out, no matter long or short, he wants this, this something scary, this something exciting. 

 

He feels his dry throat open and close almost, his jaw working, drawing breaths, his lips starting to move before he could even comprehend it.

 

“I-I have a cat, could he come too?”


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine’s first full week with Kurt, working for him and living with him, is like a whirlwind and he can’t remember it ever getting to Sunday.   
He’s contemplating this, eyes still crusted with the leftovers of sleep whilst lying in his bed, his new four poster bed with a mattress that is obscenely perfect, in his new room, a room that’s too big for him, and Jes who is currently sprawled lengthways alongside of him lightly purring as he snoozes, over the softest sheets that Blaine has ever felt. 

 

Jes has been given his very own plush kitty bed, with a blue padded mattress and matching blankets rimmed with gold thread, but because it’s his first week in his new home Blaine is allowing him to adjust to the new environment and sleep up top with him, though he knows, that even in weeks to come, the cat would not have moved, and Blaine probably won’t argue.   
There’s a scratching post and small water dish to the corner of Blaine’s room and because Jes is house trained there’s even a covered up litter box in Blaine’s bathroom, how sweet. 

 

The room is painted white with light wooden accents and furnishings. The drapes and the bed spread and the large rug draped across the floor boards are all a mixture of satin and suede, silky smooth and rich Navy in colour. It’s all very modern and very classy, simple and plain yet with enough detail to boast about. There is a large antique dresser and plenty more floor space for Blaine to fill with whatever he likes, there is a flat screen hanging off of the wall opposite the bed and a storage unit where his Xbox has sat untouched. He’s filled only a small section of the walk in closet with his clothes and shoes and accessories and there’s a gorgeous blue and slate tiled en-suite bathroom more than big enough for just him.   
A set of patio doors on the far wall opens out onto Blaine’s own private balcony, down and out, over looking the gardens, and Blaine can envisage rolling out of bed on an early summer’s morning, stretching under the heady rays of the sunrise. 

 

Kurt’s condo is situated on Park Avenue, of course, overlooking the beautiful scenery of Central Park and with the bright lights of Broadway not too far away in the distance. It isn’t as big as it certainly could have been, but more than big enough, gloriously so and beautiful. It’s perfect.

 

It boasts a private garage and elevator shaft, a doorman and a security guard, a main bathroom as well as the en-suites attached to the three bedrooms. The whole house is mostly painted and decorated similarly, with creams and whites and neutral shades with each room having a different accessory of colour and theme. It screams chic, and wonderfully understated, it screams Kurt.

 

The living area is a vast open space with wide black fabric comfy as sin couches with white and cream decorative throws and pillows, pointed at an entertainment complex, and there’s a grand looking fire place on the back wall. The whole room is a clean and fairly clutter free space save for a large landscape of the Hudson River hanging above the flat screen and a fancy side table and lamp off to the side. 

 

It backs onto a large open plan swanky, state of the art silver kitchen, accessorised with red tiles and appliances, with a bar set up in between the two areas stocked full of all liquor imaginable. The kitchen door opens to a small hallway which leads to the guest bathroom and back out to the main hall, there’s a separate dining room next door too, with plum paper covered walls and a cherry oak dining set, though eating at the breakfast counter in the kitchen just seems to be the given thing to do.   
The dining room is the only room in the house with its own distinct colour theme and furnishings, there’s something intimate and almost private about it, giving off a dark and husky ambience. 

 

There is also a small study with a range of half empty bookcases, a randomly placed sewing table and a wide open empty floor space. There’s a private gym downstairs by the parking garage and the bedrooms are situated up a few steps in a rounded hallway just off of the main entrance hall by the elevator.   
Blaine hasn’t seen the other bedrooms except for his own, there is a door a few feet downwards from his and then a corridor leading off to the side which he presumes leads to Kurt’s bedroom, out of the way. 

 

Kurt’s office is the next door down after the living room out in the entrance hall, it’s not too big, not too small, with a large glass desk and black polished furniture and pale grey walls. Blaine even has his own similarly decorated small work space just next door, though he’s rarely spent anytime in it so far. Kurt has been keeping him close, training him up.

 

Kurt had sent a removal van and a private car for Blaine on the day that he moved in, which was a Monday exactly one week after his interview, he was able to quickly find a tenant for his home who had agreed to a Six month lease at first and was able to move in straight away.   
Blaine didn’t have that much to bring with him, nothing that would already be waiting for him, he’d packed boxes of clothes and typical bedroom stuff, a container of Jes’s stuff, his books and some old music records and sheets, his Xbox and games, laptop, guitar and small keyboard, just the usual. He’d sent his couch and TV to a storage unit downtown and left most of his kitchen appliances for his tenant to use. 

 

After moving in and getting settled Kurt had allowed Blaine a day of adjusting, familiarizing with his surroundings so to speak, and Jes of course who didn’t come out from his carry case for the first Four hours. 

 

Blaine had hardly seen Kurt at all that day actually and as far he was aware he was still in the house, he hadn’t gone out. Blaine began to quickly realise that Kurt was right in what he had said during his interview, they wouldn’t be on top of each other here, and Blaine couldn’t tell if that made him feel better or slightly disorientated.   
House rules were pretty easy and laid back, Blaine could come and go, and do as he pleased, so long as he wasn’t working, of course. He had access to all rooms of the condo except for Kurt’s bedroom and was told to make himself at home everywhere else, as instructed by the sheet of paper he’d found on his new bed, not spoken from Kurt’s own tongue in person. 

 

That night Blaine had wandered into the kitchen with Jes hot on his heels a little unsurely, to find Kurt dressed in gray slacks and a white long sleeve shirt, rolled up to his elbows, slim line invisible rimmed glasses sat on the tip of his nose, flipping a wok this way and that in his wrist over the wide open stove.   
Jes cautiously made his way over to his new set of glamorous food dishes which Kurt had provided for him, and Kurt knelt down on his honkers, brushing a finger up the cat’s bushy tail as it rose to meet the touch.

 

They ate stir fry and shared a bottle of wine as they made basic if just a little awkward small talk, sitting on stools side by side at the island, mostly about the cat that was sitting on the floor below and between them peering up at Kurt curiously with big aqua eyes.

 

“Jes?” 

 

“I found him on my doorstep when he was this tiny little ball of fluff, he kept coming back day after day and he would do this kind of weird dance up on his back legs… reminded me of a Jester..”

 

“Oh, ha. I uh- I always wanted a cat.” 

 

Their eyes had met properly and fully for the first time that day, and the smiles hidden within were evident even if a little bashful.

 

Blaine realised then that he loved the sound of Kurt’s voice, the way it would drop and rise and lower, he loved the way his lips and tongue curled around each word, loved his dulcet tones, his hint of sarcasm and humour and the way he sometimes seemed so disinterested when talking, like was just over it and everybody.   
Blaine had seemed to have forgotten the ability to ask questions and use his conversational skills, Blaine was usually so inquisitive, so eager to learn and just know, but right then he just wanted to listen.

 

Kurt emptied their dishes into the sink and left the room as he husked out a quiet, “I’ll see you in my office tomorrow at Eight sharp… goodnight.” If Blaine’s eyes lingered more than they should have, well there was nobody there to judge was there, and Jes certainly wasn’t going to do anything about it. 

 

The first Five days of his new job seemed to fly by as well as start off a little slow, Kurt wanted Blaine to get used to the office work first, the simple stuff, the basics of a generic PA, or so he thought, before venturing out into public domain. And Blaine had no problem with that.   
Blaine was waiting for Kurt to show him old work and guidelines, or say things like ‘my old PA used to…’ but he never did, Blaine was starting to realise that this was just as new to Kurt as it was to him, and Blaine had no problem with that also.

 

Blaine was introduced properly to Sam his personal driver, the same driver who helped him on moving day. Sam seemed to be of a similar age, with a slightly off southern accent and said to have spent his teenage years growing up in Ohio too. He had a good head of blonde hair for a guy and a quiet but polite and likeable personality, and Blaine thought that he could make a friend in Sam someday, if nobody else.   
Sam spent a morning taking Blaine around the nearby area, giving a hearty tour and pointing out Kurt’s favourite coffee stores and delis, pastry bars, take outs and restaurants, just for future reference. Blaine appreciated that, and Sam seemed humble.

 

Kurt had said that he had his own personal car and driver who Blaine was yet to meet but for now seemed happy enough sharing with Blaine and Sam when showing Blaine all of the relevant business offices and buildings around the city that he will have to make himself known with.   
The silences in the back of the blacked out Lexus were actually strangely calming and not too awkward during the short drives through the city.   
The privacy partition between the back of the car and Sam upfront meant that they were able to speak privately, if ever they needed to for whatever reason, but also had a panel of interactive buttons which connected to the front of the car.  
Blaine could see the quirk in Kurt’s lips when Blaine flicked from radio station to radio station using his control panel until he found an adequate choice which was playing some old show tunes. 

 

Kurt gave Blaine a new cell phone to use during work hours, and when he looked into his phonebook he noticed the entries, Kurt and Kurt P. “The first one is for work, of course, we’re speed dialled to each other anyway and the second is my private number, only to be used in emergencies, you know just in case,” He was told and Blaine asked no further questions, but reeled inside at the thought, the offer of trust.

 

Each day had started off with Blaine hunched over Kurt’s desk whilst he was taught something new, Blaine would jot things down on a note pad, even though Kurt had gave him a tablet and a Netbook with sufficient applications to use for such use. Blaine had voiced how he preferred his own writing, his own way, which earned him a pretty impressive eye roll, which may have made most want to curl in on themselves, but left Blaine however feeling oddly proud and smug whilst trying to hide his smirk. 

 

Kurt went into a little bit of depth more each day about his usual day to day work and routine unless something different was scheduled to take place, like travelling or an event of some sort. He’d made sure not to off load too much too soon and Blaine knew that he was holding some things back for now. Blaine would ask questions soon, but not yet.  
Kurt had made sure that Blaine had the appropriate travelling documents and his passport was in date and had even set up a generous health and insurance plan for him. 

 

They would have working lunches and dinners together, sometimes at home ordered in or cooked by one or both, which Blaine loved. There was something calm and oddly beautiful about Kurt when he was in his kitchen, the way his body carried him around and his hands and fingers worked with practised precision, it was so insightful and enchanting to watch.   
Sometimes they ate and drank at Kurt’s favourite restaurant and bars, and Blaine loved that too, every moment of it.

 

It was during these times, in public places that Blaine noticed a different side to Kurt, a side that he saw a glimpse of during his interview, but when back at the condo Kurt was more reserved in all aspects off his manner and personality.   
Kurt knows exactly what he wants, he takes control swiftly and leaves no room for second guessing, compromise or protest.   
When ordering in a restaurant or bar, his tone is direct, clipped and determined, he is polite yes and not intentionally mean at all, but there is something there lying beyond the surface.

 

And Blaine just knows that there is also another side to that tongue, and the way that it curls around some words beautifully, making Blaine feel weak at the knees at times, could snap in a flash like lightening and form the most chest clenching and maybe irrevocable sounds. 

 

Even after such a short time of knowing each other and even with Kurt’s strange icy yet warming exterior, Blaine was becoming pleasantly used to the way their eyes would catch. The way comfort and familiarity was starting to show inch by inch between them. Even though sometimes not a lot would or could be said between them verbally, the headiness and pleasantly thickness of the silences between their quick glances, said enough. 

 

Although remaining polite and professional about it throughout, Blaine loved trying to dig in a tiny little bit with each new opportunity, to make a dent into Kurt’s closed off attitude and personality, to understand him. 

 

Blaine had even been taken to visit Kurt’s tailor, “Mr Hummel likes his staff to look presentable.” Sam had mumbled with a slightly awkward looking shift in his chauffeur’s jacket, into Blaine’s ear whilst he was prodded and pulled at with measuring tape, swatches of fabric and pins.

 

On one rare quiet afternoon, a few days in, when Kurt hadn’t been around much and Blaine was supposed to be ‘getting to grips’ with things in his little side-office, he looked up from the spread sheet on his computer screen, pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. He stretched upwards and stood up making his way towards the cabinets and cupboards which the lined the walls of the small room. He flicked open some doors half heartedly, with more boredom than curiosity and found nothing interesting but a stack of magazines, one of which lying right on the top caught Blaine’s attention straight away. 

 

There on the glossy cover was Kurt’s handsome yet brooding face, a little chubbier around the edges than now and Blaine recognised instantly that he looked like he could have been about Ten years younger, even though Blaine still doesn’t know Kurt’s age.  
His hair was a little longer and wasn’t as styled and perfected as it is now, but his eyes were still the same, piercing and beautiful. He wore a green floral shirt tucked under a vest and a pair of skinny jeans with knee high boots as he poses up against a building, and the header that was printed in bold yellow above his head read the words, America’s Youngest Entrepreneur of the year.

 

Blaine read the article, skimming through the facts and the details and remembered hearing about Kurt now, remembered the story. Kurt a McKinley High school graduate born in Lima, Ohio, a boy who could never really fit in, who struggled, who was different in his own right but no less important.   
The article went onto explain that Kurt would help his dad out in his tyre shop during free time and on weekends starting from as young as Thirteen, and after years of research and development Kurt had created and mass produced his very own unique brand of work gloves and coveralls.

 

The work gear and range, which had been simply named, KEH Motor Wear, had been made from a hazard free material, easily washable and extremely durable and sustainable, with a breathable fabric for those long hot summers, and made available in a variety of colours and seasonal options. It had been quickly voted one of the best products of the year and garages, workshops and motor-stores all over the state were requesting to stock and sell it. It turns out that grease monkeys and old ‘motor heads’ actually were bothered about how they dressed, no matter the protest.  
Blaine actually remembers some of his father’s friends talking about the most comfortable sturdy set of gloves for oil and tyre changing, now that he thinks about it. 

 

The article didn’t really go into much detail about anything else, not about his school or home or personal life, though this was something that Blaine was truly interested to getting to learn and know too, but that could wait. So Blaine put the magazine back where he had found it, closed the cupboard and returned to his desk.   
He recalled looking at the article online during one of his lunch breaks back in Senior year of high school, and given Kurt had graduated high school when the article was written, that made Kurt currently Twenty Seven years old, roughly a year older than himself. 

 

Upon the new discovery, Blaine took to the ever mighty Google and sure enough Kurt Hummel was there but only in short and in some invaluable snippets. Blaine started to remember and recognise Kurt’s young face and his newer products and campaigns from other things over the years. Ad’s he’d walked past in the street, short infomercials which he’d unknowingly skipped over, columns in newspapers and so forth. 

 

Blaine wouldn’t comment about his new discovery, maybe Kurt assumed that he may already know, but Blaine would wait, wait for Kurt to talk about it in his own time, in his own way. Blaine felt taken aback by the whole thing, so awe-struck and in a way a little guilty that he wasn’t aware just how powerful Kurt actually was although he did give off that vibe about him anyway.   
Essentially Blaine was working for a sort of celebrity figure and though starting to feel a little over whelmed, Blaine couldn’t wait to really get started and get his hands dirty, to give this job all that he had, to give Kurt all that he had.

 

Now Blaine stretches under the covers, toes curling, he pushes his arms up and over his head, lacing his fingers together and bending up and outwards, and he’s grinning, broadly and to nothing and nobody. The sun slithers in from the window where’d he cracked the drapes slightly and pulled the door ajar when he’d gotten up to use the toilet earlier that morning, and the warmth spreads over his chest and face and the accompanying soft gust of late morning breeze is just right. Blaine feels more relaxed and strangely happy than he has in months.

 

Jester whines with a hint of threatening undertones as he’s shifted as Blaine’s body and legs wriggle happily, he leans over to grab his phone, checking the time and any messages or notifications. He throws the phone down to the mattress after a quick scroll careful of Jes and flops over on to his belly with a contented sigh, its Ten-Twenty One on a sunny Sunday morning and he has the whole day ahead to do with as he wishes. 

 

Oddly he is a little disappointed that he doesn’t have work today, he’s spent so long alone in the confines of his own apartment with only Jester to whine at him as any form of conversation, that he’s loved the past Five days of work, as busy at his been, with early starts and late nights, of learning and of course being with Kurt. 

 

Yes he is also oddly disappointed that he won’t be spending time with Kurt today either, although he may possibly bump into him at some point, he doesn’t know what Kurt’s schedule is on his days off, or if the man, even has any.   
There is still so much he has to learn about Kurt, so much he wants to learn, wants to know.   
Like what his favourite song is, his favourite dessert, what he absolutely loves to do when not having to work at all, if he will succumb to that.   
Blaine wants to watch him style his hair in the morning, wants to know what that amazing smelling cologne is that he uses, Blaine wants to see what Kurt looks like last thing at night just before sleeps takes him with his cheek pressed into his pillow.

 

Ok so maybe Blaine is developing a not so great crush on his boss, but its fine, kind of. It’s controllable, and Blaine can think and wonder and want to know all that he wants in the privacy of these four walls and it never has to go any further. 

 

Speaking of, Blaine slowly moves a hand between himself and the mattress and pulls himself forward onto his knees. He pushes his ass up and out causing Jes to slide over and scatter off of the bed to the floor with a hiss and patter over to his scratching post. Blaine groans into the pillow as he takes hold of himself tightly, eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in his thighs and arms rippling with each lazy grind and stroke. 

 

A set of knuckles wrap against the bedroom door loudly, Blaine bites his lip to keep the squeak from rising up his throat and he scrambles up and over onto his back, adjusting the covers over his chest, trying to act as normal as one would on a Sunday morning in bed. He shifts so that this hips are leaning towards the side and not so obvious as to what’s going on underneath. Jesus.

 

The knocking pattern sounds again, a littler louder, a little longer. Kurt has never came to seek him out from his bedroom before, he doesn’t know why he would do it now, on his day off, not that Blaine would mind but a little warning would be helpful. 

 

“Uh, h-hello, yes?” 

 

The door creaks open slightly and Blaine slinks under the covers until they’re bumping up to his chin, like a kid waiting for the boogie man to show up in the dark. A thin tanned hand snakes around the door jamb and pushes it open slowly, a plastic laundry basket is pushed through on the floor next followed by a clip clopping of heels. 

 

“Oh and a good morning it is-” The lady standing in his doorway staring at him with wide smiling eyes and a positively devilish grin, is tall and slender with long black hair pulled back into messy do atop her head. She’s beautiful, with big dark eyes, chiselled features and flawless skin, obviously mixed race and she’s holding a box of cleaning products and a rag tucked into the waistline of her low cut, light washed skinny jeans. She’s wearing a black cut off t-shirt and looks all too comfortable in a pair of black wedged heels. She doesn’t look like she’s dressed appropriately to do the job Blaine assumes that she’s here to do. 

 

The woman steps into the room and pulls the door closed behind her, Blaine can only lie still, in shock with his fingers clutched around the covers over his bare body.  
“So I’m guessing Lady Hummel didn’t tell you that Sunday is cleaning day huh?” She nudges the laundry basket out of her way with her shoe and pulls the cleaning rag from her jeans and waves it in the air playfully.

 

Blaine tries to sit up a little, “Oh I um, no, he um, what-lady who?” She steps up closer to the bed. 

 

“Oh don’t worry about that, that’s a nickname he earned back in high school, he’ll never get away from it-” She grins flawlessly and holds a hand out towards him, wriggling her fingers. “I’m Santana, you must be Blaine.”

 

Blaine tries to smile and glances down at himself, “Oh and don’t worry about that either,” she drawls out completely unfazed and uncaring of the circumstances that they are in. “I’m gay, Hummel’s gay and you are too so I’ve heard, so that’s great for us all huh.” Santana starts to walk away, going back to her box and pulling an iPod and twine of ear buds out from her pocket.

 

Blaine blinks at her bold and brass tone, so open, so refreshingly honest and then his mind backtracks and he shivers deliciously at the sound of Kurt’s name. He’d thought he was gay, he’d read that he was on his Wikipedia page and stuff, but it’s nice to actually have it confirmed out loud for some bizarre reason. Blaine couldn’t find any information at all on Kurt’s romantic life and that was going to be a future task he’d set himself. 

 

“Um, ok.” Blaine genuinely doesn’t know what to say. Thirty seconds ago he was hard in his hand and now he’s soft, vulnerably naked and making small talk with his supposed new house keeper. Santana is looking at him like she’s making some sort of conclusion in her head, a slow smile starts to spread as she tips her head side to side as if weighing him up, she hmm’s to herself like she’s happy with what she’s come up with in her head and continues unwinding her ear buds. Blaine can just hear her soft mutter of, “Yeah I see it.” 

 

Santana twists back around as she scrolls through a playlist, “Ok so here’s the deal, I come round here on Sunday’s around Nine-ish, I spend most of the day here half working and half seeing what I can get my hands on, either way baby gay pays me the big bucks-” 

 

Jester wanders over and loops through Santana’s legs, she bends down and scratches between his ears, “so you can either stay here, like that,” She nods her head suggestively towards Blaine, “or you can go chase Lady H’s ass around out there.” 

 

Blaine feels an incredulous giggle crawl up his throat, he doesn’t think he’s met anybody like this woman before, and also thinks that he likes her, a lot.   
Santana stands up and catches his expression. “Don’t sweat it, he’s used to it, this is just how I talk, we’re McKinley High survivors you see, Trouty Mouth too-”

 

“Trouty Mouth?”

 

“Sam, your driver-” 

 

Blaine slaps a hand over his face, flustered and utterly humoured now, “oh gosh, ok, yes, ok just give me a moment to uh get dressed and I’ll be out of your way.” 

 

Santana grins, placing a hand over her eyes and faces the wall. “Not like I care about what I see anyway.” She mutters whilst putting her ear buds in and pocketing her iPod.

 

Blaine slips out of bed and into his closet, he thoughtlessly and quickly pulls on a pair of black sweat pants and grabs an old red t-shirt from a drawer whilst turning and padding out and over barefoot to the door, not really caring that he’s half naked still, just that he’s not completely naked in front of a woman that he’s just met. He opens the door and turns to Santana, “Is Jes ok in here?” 

 

Santana is paying him no attention at all, bopping along to whatever tune is playing loudly into her eardrums and stripping off his sheets, which makes him cringe a little and thank all that is wholly that he didn’t get to finish his earlier job. 

 

Jester blinks at him from his perch up on the dresser as his tail swishes whenever Santana bops past, so Blaine ducks out of the room alone, a little bewildered and too flustered to think rationally as he jogs down the stairs. 

 

Coffee, he needs coffee right now.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine skips down the steps and straight through the back entrance to the kitchen, arms stretched high above his head, biceps bulging and tummy muscles pulled tight, sweats hanging low on his hips, just revealing the low hairy teasing dip as he pulls his arms and head through the openings of his t-shirt.

 

As his head pops back up, he regrettably realizes that his hair is still in its uncontrolled bed state and as he tries to continuously tug his shirt down over his broad chest and stomach he also realizes that this piece of clothing is old for a reason, it’s too small. The hem finally reaches the waistline of his sweats as he jacks them up a little higher but the red fabric is pulled tight over his abs and the still soft flab of belly just below, showing off the definitions, dips and hollows of his chest, ribcage and stomach, down to the cut of his hips beautifully. 

 

Blaine looks up with a flustered huff of breath, cheeks a little flushed, to find Kurt sitting at the breakfast island before him, silently watching with parted glossy looking lips, like he’s ran his tongue over them, cheeks tinted with circles of light pretty pink and a cup of coffee half on its way to his mouth. 

 

For a moment Blaine thinks that he can actually feel the heat directed at him from Kurt’s hooded gaze between them in the air, until suddenly Kurt blinks his eyes closed and brings the mug to his waiting lips whilst turning his head. 

 

Blaine fights the urge to bite his lip, ok maybe he should feel a little embarrassed, he’s actually commando under those low hanging sweats, but after what’s just happened back in his bedroom, he feels like he’s good in that department, and it’s kind of fun actually.   
This sort of thing was just waiting to happen one day right? Why not be only Five days in? And with the way he’s caught Kurt looking at him, he endeavours to maybe make a habit out of it.

 

He turns to the counter where the coffee machine is set up, a mug and spoon and small pot of cream already waiting for him, he smiles to think that maybe Kurt has done that for him, waiting for him.   
He should say something, or at least act like he cared that he’s just stumbled into his boss’s kitchen half naked.

 

“U-um, morning uh sorry about that, I uh-”

 

“Good morning Blaine.” 

 

Although Blaine’s back is turned, he thinks, he’s almost certain that he can hear the smile in Kurt’s voice. He feels his stomach flutter and sets about making his coffee with a controlled grin, calling back over his shoulder, “Would you like a refill?”

 

“Oh, um yes please,” Blaine brings the pot over to the island as well the jug of cream and a small dish of Demerara sugar, he pops up onto a stool beside Kurt and watches how Kurt tries to avert his gaze from Blaine’s thinly covered stomach. Blaine lifts and pours the coffee into Kurt’s almost empty mug. “Thank you.” 

 

“You’re welcome.” Kurt looks at Blaine then, eye to eye, and Blaine is almost shocked when he notices, he thought Kurt may brood for a short while first, but he’s looking at him now with clear morning sky eyes and an unreadable expression. 

 

Kurt nods down to a dish in front of him, there’s some sort of pastry glazed with white on the top and a small silver fork lying on the side.   
“Our house keeper, you’ll meet her soon, brings with her the best Polvorones, her mom is an amazing cook-”

 

Blaine smiles as Kurt picks up his fork and cuts off a small piece for Blaine to try, he hands the fork over and Blaine takes it from him gently, his insides jumping from the very simple but meaningful offer. He places the pastry between his teeth, not touching the metal of the cutlery and pulls it soundly between his lips as he places the fork back down. 

 

“God, that’s delicious,” He mumbles after swallowing the bite, licking his lips and picking up his mug to wash it down with. Kurt hums a response as he shifts his gaze suddenly, flicks a hand over the page of the newspaper that Blaine has just realized is lying on the counter.

 

“There’s more on the plate over there, she usually brings a stack-”

 

“I’ve met her,”

 

“Hmm?” Kurt turns his head but doesn’t lift his eyes.

 

“Santana. I’ve just had the pleasure of meeting her, actually.” Blaine is smirking as he says this and Kurt’s eyes darts to his, wide with a slight look of guilt and worry.

 

“Oh god, she walked in on you didn’t she? She said she would wait until you got up, I’m so sorry, she’s just-” 

 

Blaine waves a hand. “She’s great, don’t worry, its fine.” Blaine smiles reassuringly and for a short moment Kurt copies him, and then it’s gone again and he’s flicking pages and tapping his finger against the rim of his coffee mug.

 

“My cat seems to like her,” He tries.

 

“Lucky for him. A word of warning, she usually drops by one night through the week too, your door has a lock, and there should be a key in your night stand.” Blaine laughs quietly whilst nodding and rises from his stool, walking over to the far side of the kitchen.

 

“Got it.” He takes a pastry from the plate and puts it onto a side dish, opening a drawer and picking up a fresh fork too. He slyly enjoys the view as he slowly makes his way back to his stool behind Kurt.  
Kurt’s dressed in a pair of beige chinos and a loose white button down this morning, the clothes hang from his skin perfectly and cling just where they need to, where his ass tightens as he hunches over the counter. His hair is soft and styled off of his face but looks more casual somehow, and a pair of loafer slippers dangles from his feet where they rest on the metal bar of the stool’s frame.

 

Blaine likes Sunday Kurt. Who’s he kidding Blaine likes Kurt everyday.

 

He sits down once more and slices his fork through his breakfast treat, if there is one thing he is absolutely sure of since moving in with Kurt, it’s that his stomach is definitely thrilling and growing from new tastes and experiences. The food that he has been sharing with Kurt these past few days has been nothing short of to die for. 

 

“So uh, Santana said that you two went to school together and Sam too?” Kurt’s head remains lowered, neck bent slightly and shoulders hunched, but he visibly tenses, Blaine’s trying not to look at him but he can tell.

 

“Um yes, we did.” And that’s it, apparently. Blaine can’t really say that he’s surprised, but he had hoped for a little more. 

 

He continues looking down at his plate whilst Kurt takes a long swallow of his coffee, he knows what pressing the matter will do, but he can’t help, he’s always going to want more, with Kurt.

 

“So um, how did it-” He’s cut off by the sharp scrape of Kurt’s stool against the tile and Kurt swiftly sliding down off of the wooden seat, he scoops up his plate and cup and places them on the far counter, not even bothering to empty his leftovers. 

 

“Excuse me, have a nice morning Blaine.” Kurt’s voice is soft and also a little rough like he needs to clear his throat. 

 

Blaine doesn’t even lift his head to face him, he knows that there’s no point, he hears the soft footfalls of Kurt’s lightweight slippers over the tile and out onto the hardwood surface of the entrance hall before he can even a mutter a ‘no problem, you too Kurt’. He hears the faint far off soft click of a door and he knows that Kurt is now in his office, hiding away. 

 

Blaine finishes off his pastry and coffee and slides from his stool, he opens the dishwasher and loads the dishes, Kurt’s too, inside. He takes what’s left of Kurt’s breakfast and starts chewing on it, it’s a shame to waste, as he makes his way over to the living area, sitting down and flicking on the television, but not actually wanting to watch anything at all.

 

Blaine doesn’t know how long he spends sitting on the couch in the living area, just gazing into nothing until he notices Jes appear in the corner of his eye. The cat slowly wanders past the couch, looking at him as casually as a cat could look and over to his tiny section of the kitchen. Clearly the feline was getting to grips with the place and becoming as comfortable as Blaine. 

 

Call Blaine crazy, and maybe he was a little, or maybe it was just cause he’d gotten used to only having his furry companion as any companion for a long time, but he actually felt like the cat actually got him at times, like knew what was rolling around in his head. They do say that a cat and a human’s brain share similar qualities and strengths, even emotions right?

 

The small cat peeks up from lapping at his water as Blaine shuts off the TV and strolls over to him. Jes’s ears twitch and his tail thumps once against the tile behind him with shrewd looking eyes and Blaine just looks back down at him before rolling his eyes and walking away, mumbling “I know, but I don’t’ know what to do about it.” 

 

Yeah, but who isn’t a little crazy right?

 

* 

 

The condo’s gym proved to be a perfect way to pass a long stretch of time, Blaine never really considered himself to be the highly athletic type and can’t even remember the last time he paid his local gym membership. He often went out for a short jog around his neighbourhood back in Queens, but right now he needed something to do and leaving the building was something he didn’t feel so inclined to do at that moment, not on a Sunday, not with Kurt still here, so brooding, so annoyingly fascinating.

 

Blaine had made his way back to his room to find a fresh spread over his bed, clean and light and it smelled wonderful, his curtains were tied back into the plush holds and his bathroom was actually sparkling, and Santana surprisingly gone. 

 

He found some shorts, his running sneakers and a tank top in a drawer of his closet, picked up his phone from the night stand which Santana had obviously found discarded among the sheets and left for him there, thank god for password protect, and his Dre Studio Beats he’d treated himself too for Christmas before heading back down.

 

The treadmill beeps wildly when Blaine passes his two and half hour mark, he pushes the stop button as his legs slow and he squirts some water from his bottle he’s holding into his mouth. He leans down and rests his forearms over the safety bar, his forehead sweaty and chest heaving atop of those as he looks around the room.

 

Maybe on another day he’ll try out the weight benches and the bikes or the rowing machines, maybe he’ll check out the steam room and sauna next door, maybe the Jacuzzi for some downtime. The gym is a wide but small in length, its walls are painted a muted grey colour with spotlights in the ceiling which glint off of the black laminate flooring and there’s chilling cabinet in the corner stocked with bottles of water, fresh juices and energy drinks. There’s a couch opposite the far wall lined with mirrors and wooden floor space before them and a small boom box is plugged in at the wall.

 

It’s nice and modern and seems almost new, like nobody actually comes down here, maybe Kurt doesn’t have the time, but how else would he have such strong muscles in the curve of his lean back, the bulge in his upper arms and the breadth of his chest and shoulders. Blaine cannot even deny at this point that yes, he does check the guy out whenever he gets the chance to do so discreetly.

 

After catching his breath Blaine dismounts the machine and leaves the gym, he spends the short elevator ride back up running his hand through his damp curls and pulling at the hem of his shorts. The metal doors slide open before he knows it and his feet tiredly carry him over the threshold and into the main hall over to the steps that lead to the bedrooms.

 

“Yeah I get that Santana but-”

 

“No, you listen here Hummel, do you want things to go back to the way they were? Is that what you want? Things are better now, things are good, stop being such a-”

 

Santana stops herself with a low unintelligible foreign sounding mutter. Blaine freezes as the quiet but bold voices reach his ears, just before he crosses past Kurt’s office, Kurt’s office which has the door wide open. Blaine knows that he shouldn’t eavesdrop, he’s not, he’s not intentionally listening, but he doesn’t want to make himself known, this conversation is private and none of Blaine’s business, and he doesn’t want to embarrass the two by knowing that they’ve been heard.

 

“I’m not and you know I’m not-” Kurt’s voice is so gentle, a little like defeated and Blaine wishes he could see his face.

 

He’s just about to make a U-Turn and head into the living room instead when he hears, “Remember what Carole said to you, what she’s done for you? Give yourself a break here Kurt, give yourself this chance, come on, get over yourself.”

 

There’s a small silence, and Blaine blinks owlishly, bringing his empty water bottle to his lips, to nip at the plastic cap with his teeth. Santana does not sound unfriendly or even intimidating, she sounds like she’s speaking from experience, she’s speaking like a friend, the way only a true friend would have the balls to talk like. They did go to school together after all, even if Kurt didn’t think that the topic was a one he wished to talk about. 

 

“It’s hard San, you know what I’m up against here, you know that I want that, god do I want that-” Blaine doesn’t even know exactly what this is about, but he feels something in his chest crack at Kurt’s words, his almost broken tone. He doesn’t sound sad, just tired, politely dismissive, like’s he’s sick of explaining himself to the world.

 

Blaine quietly pads out of the room and into the next, making his way over to the kitchen and sets about loudly making himself a fruit smoothie, using the power blender. Kurt doesn’t need anybody listening to that, he knows that Kurt would be disappointed if he thought Blaine had heard him, and Blaine has his morals.

 

But Blaine would be completely lying if he said that he doesn’t want to know exactly what it is that Kurt wants so badly, so much that he sounds broken for it, resigned to not ever having it. Somebody so worldly wise and powerful in his own right, appearing to have all that one could want, beaten down to such hollow words. 

 

Blaine knows that he could spend the next weeks, months…god, years even, working for Kurt and figuring him out.

 

*

 

It’s a Thursday evening during Blaine’s second week, it’s hitting Eight Pm and Blaine is just scanning some documents through to some of Kurt’s affiliates when he’s hears some kind of commotion come from the grand room. 

 

His glasses are hanging from the unbuttoned collar of his white and pale blue striped fitted shirt and his sleeves are undone at the cuff and rolled up. Blaine likes to look his best during the day and he know that Kurt likes him to look his best also, he sees the way Kurt eye’s up his outfits, the way he matches and mixes, he knows that they are appreciative looks, but at this late hour when they are in the privacy of the condo, the rules of attire slacken slightly.

 

He hears voices and knows that’s it Kurt and Santana, she’s been here since Six-ish dusting and wiping over the counter tops, little bits and such. Blaine finishes up, logs off from the system and clicks the light off in his office and then Kurt’s as he exits.

 

He’s greeted by Jester as he enters the room, who is perched on the back of one of the couches, which technically he’s not allowed to do, and the first few times he had tried it Blaine swatted him down. But then Blaine caught him snuggling up to the back of Kurt’s head one day as Kurt leaned back against the cushions, one hand holding his phone up to his ear as he chatted professionally and one hand up and back, raising and falling gently with the curve of Jester’s back and tail.   
Blaine had stopped reprimanding his pet after that, but did find himself oddly jealous of him.

 

Kurt and Santana are stationed at the bar in the centre, Kurt is leaning back on a stool and Santana is hovering over the other side, a clear bottle in each hand, pouring generously into a row of three cocktail glasses.

 

“Ms Lopez, please do remember that it is indeed a work night.” Kurt drawls but Blaine can tell that he doesn’t actually care. He looks good tonight, he’s looked good all day, god when does he not, with his dark brown plaid fitted suit, matched with an impeccable figure hugging shirt as usual. But now the jacket is discarded and his sleeves are scrunched up, much like Blaine’s current attire, they both look damn good if he says so himself and for Santana being gay like she said she was, she certainly likes to look. He’s starting to understand, that that is just her, who she is, unashamed. 

 

“Oh please, like we didn’t do this all the time, when you got over your dedicated driver phase-”

 

“The cocktails were never that strong back then, or we wouldn’t be here to tell the tale.”

 

“Just stop talking, we do this like every Thursday, its cocktail Thursday-”

 

“You should be emptying my dishwasher-”

 

“Bite me, now tell me, do you want a curly straw?”

 

Blaine approaches them with an amused grin, Santana notices as she picks some cherries out of a pot and toys them into the glasses with a look of delight.

 

“Oh joy, Prince Dapper you’re right on time-” Blaine blushes and ducks his head as he comes to stand before them, Kurt’s head turns and their eyes catch, his lips quirk slightly.

 

“Santana-”

 

“Oh he knows, come on he needs a name, everyone has a name,” She drawls and secretly Blaine preens inside, he feels like he’s fits in some how, a part of the family.

 

“Could be worse I suppose, I’ll take it.” Blaine provides as he pulls a stool out and perches on top, his knees a short knocks worth away from Kurt’s long lean legs. 

 

“You would, it’s very fitting compared to everybody else’s.” Blaine’s eyes lift to Kurt’s, a little surprised but delighted at the comment. Santana is watching them gleefully, obnoxiously.

 

“My names are variable depending on mood and circumstance, so be warned.” She says as she hands them both a glass and winks awfully.

 

They drink and talk, mostly Santana, on both accounts and by the time the second round is almost finished they have moved over to the couches. Kurt and Santana are sharing one, with Santana not caring at all about personal boundaries, bumping her knees against his and prodding him in the shoulder conversationally.   
Blaine is sitting diagonally opposite on the other couch, legs crossed and an arm draped over the back.   
Jester sits in the middle of the group on the floor, watching and listening, sometimes providing entertainment by way of a body roll or trying to catch dust bunnies as they appear visible from the stream of sun-setting light from the window.

 

Blaine doesn’t ask questions or make conversation, he doesn’t need to, Santana seems to be on the right path with her relentless tongue and that’s without the alcohol. 

 

“So Blaine, private school in our lovely Ohio huh, and you like Music? I bet you went to that preppy boys school with the blazers and were in their Glee Club, what were they again, The Crooners, The-”

 

“Santana, oh my god-” Blaine laughs and lifts a hand to Kurt who sits up looking scandalised and livid at the girl beside him.

 

“It’s ok, The Warblers, and yes you’re right I was-”

 

“Mmm, knew it,” She quips as she drains her glass, she gestures a finger between herself and Kurt, “We were in our schools Glee club too, not like I wanted to boast about it at first, but it was cool, hey we probably competed against each other at one time. Kurt was, is awesome at hitting those high notes and shaking his stuff” 

 

Santana stands and heads towards the kitchen, she places her glass in the sink and picks up her coat and bag from the counter top, “Ok so I’ll leave you two to talk about that, my girlfriends waiting for me, adios, see ya Sunday.”

 

The sounds of clip clopping across the floorboards and the elevator doors opening and closing fade off and Blaine is left looking at Kurt across from him, who is looking down into his drink as if there is something very interesting going on in there, he look’s mortified.  
Blaine knows exactly what Santana was trying to do, and he loves her for it, but he doesn’t want to make Kurt feel uncomfortable for whatever reason.

 

He takes a deep breath to say something but Kurt beats him to it. “I’m so sorry about her, about that,-”

 

“Honestly Kurt it’s fine, you don’t have to keep apologising on her behalf, it’s cool, I-I like her-”

 

“But the- the confidentiality thing, I swear it’s strict it is, it’s honoured, nobody knows anything about my employees that they shouldn’t.” 

 

Oh. Blaine never thought about that, how Santana knew he was Gay and his school and background. He doesn’t mind, he trusts, he knows he can, and he suddenly gets Kurt’s coolness around her, and just in general really. Kurt has a reputation to uphold, rules to abide by, but everybody has a friend like Santana. 

 

“Oh don’t worry about that Kurt, its fine, totally fine, I’m not worried, so you shouldn’t be.” He’s smiling brightly as he says this, stirring around the remnants of his drink in his glass, he takes a sip, looks up and Kurt is watching him with a look that’s close to wonder, his shoulders are eased back for once and his hands and fingers are not clenched tightly around his glass. 

 

Its like a magic button has been pressed, Blaine has spoken some kind of tension relieving words and Kurt is looking back at him wide eyed, like nobody has ever gave him an out from this sort of situation before, nobody has ever cared enough to tell him not to care. 

 

Kurt opens and closes his mouth, he licks his lips, “She’s um, she’s right you know, we have competed, I remember The Warblers at one of our Regional’s events, you guys were good, too good.” Blaine’s face lights up and he scoots a little in his seat.

 

“Did-did you like it? Singing and stuff?” Kurt’s eyes shimmer like two bright blue orbs shining through the dullest of days, and his strong jaw tremors so subtly.

 

“I loved it.” He replies softly, he looks a little sad somehow and Blaine knows that there is no room to expand on that right now, he stores the thought for another time.

 

“The New Directions right? McKinley High’s New Directions, you guys had a hell of a front runner if I remember rightly, the short brunette, bad-ass set of lungs-”

 

“Rachel yeah, she was a treat alright.” Blaine smirks, she did seem a bit full on.

 

“Was Sam in the group too? We’re looking back Ten years or something like that now, a lot of competition, a lot of faces to remember.” Kurt smiles and nods lightly and finishes his drink.

 

“Uh yes he was, he joined in my junior year.”

 

Blaine nods but stays quiet, he can sense that Kurt is gearing himself up to say something else, he can see the tension in his jaw and the way his fingers are curling and uncurling, he waits, he can wait for Kurt, no problem.

 

“He was a good friend to me back then, they uh, they both were, he and Santana, well at first she wasn’t but later turned out to be pretty damn helpful.” He’s smiling tightly like he’s looking back into his mind’s eye to yesteryear, but he’s still not finished, and Blaine will be patient.

 

“I know it um, it may seem strange or whatever that two of my high school friends are now my staff, but it’s, it’s not like, I-I wasn’t very popular back then, and I guess I, I just like to keep what and who is loyal close to me.”

 

Blaine is totally taken aback, he wasn’t expecting such a confession and knows that would have been so hard for Kurt to admit, Kurt didn’t have to tell him that, but he’s glad that he did. He won’t press, not on this, he answers carefully. 

 

“I can understand that, it’s not weird at all…I’m friends with a cat-” Kurt’s eyes dart to his and after a beat of understood silence they both laugh, loud and breathy, and Blaine just wants to crawl across the floor and join Kurt on his couch and make him laugh more, again and again. 

 

Right on cue, Jester gets up from his sprawl on the floor and hops up onto Blaine’s lap digging his claws in as if proving the point, Kurt smiles at the sight like he totally gets it somehow. The laughter fades. 

 

“They’re both great people Kurt.” Blaine’s eyes are smiling. 

 

“They are.”

 

“So are you.” Kurt swallows hard, he smiles tightly and nods but cannot meet Blaine’s eyes this time, his foot taps against the floor.

 

“We’ve uh, we’ve got that early breakfast meeting tomorrow right, best get some rest,” Kurt stands, but instead of walking away with his empty glass he steps closer to Blaine with his hand extended. It takes Blaine a moment to realize what Kurt is doing and when he does he swallows his last mouthful, and pops the leftover cherry into his mouth, handing Kurt the empty glass. 

 

Their fingers meet over the glass and brush for much longer than needed, and it’s painfully obvious how intentional the action is, from both parties.  
Kurt’s eyes flash with something unreadable and he can’t hide the small barely hidden smirk as Blaine’s reddening glossy lips part and close around the small fruit. 

 

“You’re a great guy too Blaine, pretty damn great actually, I’m glad that you came in for interview that day.” 

 

And then Kurt is walking away before Blaine can even to try say something, or at least stop from choking on his cherry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Thank you all so much for the positive interest that is already starting to show, it’s so lovely to see.
> 
> This story is already set out and please note that updates will mostly be on weekends. Thank you again.


	4. Chapter 4

On the first Monday after the first full month that Blaine has been working for Kurt, he logs onto his online banking account during a late afternoon lull in his office. He shouldn’t be surprised at what he sees when his first pay check has been cleared, he knows what he signed to earn in this new job, but he’s surprised all the same. 

 

The thing that surprises him the most is that, he can’t think of what he wants to do with it, yes he’s already transferred a large chunk into his savings account like he said he would, but he absolutely can afford to treat himself now, but with what?

 

A nice new shirt or pair of trousers, or a bowtie maybe? Kurt has that covered. Xbox games? He’s never looked at the console since he placed it in its new home on the shelf in his condo bedroom. 

 

Maybe he’ll just buy Jes a new collar or something, but even then he’s pretty sure that Kurt has plans for that too, with the way he keeps placing his fingers gently but artfully around the fur of Jes’s neck and the way he mutters about the blue of his eyes matching beautifully with Jade Green and the slight glint of a diamante finish.   
The measuring tape should have been the big give away. 

 

He even, even, considers calling his parents, to like gloat or something, though he doesn’t know why exactly and that one measly monthly pay check will mean nothing to people like them. They’ve never asked or cared about what jobs he lands himself and ventures into for a long time. The more he thinks about it he’s actually forgotten to tell them about Kurt and moving from Queens at all, ok so its like 93% forgotten and 7% intentional, but that’s beside the point.   
Blaine doesn’t need another one of those phone calls. He’ll send a group text in few weeks and maybe visit on thanksgiving, that will be enough. 

 

A similar thought process occurs on the second month that Blaine finds himself sitting staring into the computer screen at the slowly ascending digits of his bank account, and he is left wondering just where on earth the time has gone to, just short of Nine weeks in his new job, his new home, his new life. 

 

These thoughts become fast and fleeting however and are long gone the moment that he hears Kurt call his name from the next room, all high and breathy, demanding and that one word, just his name rolling off of Kurt’s tongue with such force is enough to knock him off of his feet. 

 

Blaine can honestly say that in this moment in time, the money no matter how much or deserving or helpful it is, is not the thing driving him forward in this job, nor the perks or the experience. He’s enjoying it all yes, he’s thankful for it and can admit that he thinks he’s doing a pretty swell job so far. 

 

Like the first time that he got up on a stage or the centre of a room and performed for just a handful of people, he knew then that money or the tips wasn’t going to drive him forward. It was the reactions, the love and feel for a mic in his hand or guitar peck or the feel of smooth black and ivory keys under his fingers. It was the passion that rode deep within in him whenever he opened his lungs and let his vocal chords rip. 

 

And now it’s Kurt. It’s Kurt who is making him strive forward and want things he didn’t know he would or could want, forgetting things he didn’t think he would forget, and the man is completely oblivious that he is having such a desired effect on him, or at least Blaine thinks that he is.

 

Blaine logs out with a goofy grin and stands from his desk, it’s all just numbers anyway.  
Kurt is perched on the edge of his desk when Blaine comes through, he has a stack of papers in his hands shuffling them with no order or pattern and a rather misplaced exasperated look on his face.   
Blaine swoops forward, takes the pile from Kurt’s hands with an easy smile and sits down on what he has come to know as ‘his chair’ at Kurt’s desk. 

 

He sets about flicking through the papers immediately, humming quietly as he goes, filing some away, making keep and shred piles, and all the while Kurt is looking at him with a look of sheer gratitude, but when Blaine peeks up to notice it for himself Kurt stands and busies himself around the office. 

 

This is becoming a normal routine for them, Blaine making every task and job that Kurt sets him look like Childs play, leaving Kurt looking on for a fraction before moving on to find something else, it’s almost like he is challenging him when he does this, but Blaine doesn’t mind.   
Blaine is starting to wonder how Kurt ever coped or managed on his own before, though he does silently note that whatever Blaine does take from Kurt’s hands and off of his shoulders all seems to be manageable and fairly capable stuff. He knows that Kurt is a very hard working, busy man wanted by too many people at all hours of everyday and maybe he has just sort of pushed the space for all of the ‘easier’ parts out of his brain altogether. 

 

The ‘normal’ routine is also becoming known and well used out of the condo also, Blaine starts to meet some of Kurt’s ‘regular’ clients, his most popular and well known associates and sponsors, he builds a friendly yet professional rapport with them, schmoozing in the background whilst Kurt sits at much too large oval tables in bare, boring conference rooms looking sick of his life. 

 

They’d exchange glances whilst Kurt talks and makes and listens to pitches with a gaggle of suits and Blaine takes notes hovering on the sidelines. Their fingers will brush when Blaine slides a document into Kurt’s hands, and Kurt will offer an appreciative look when Blaine hands him a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice, just knowing that he needs the vitamins.  
They discuss matters and bicker lightly in the back of the Lexus and Blaine knows he’s won when Kurt half turns towards the window with an upturned chin and his hands curled over his crossed knees neatly, whilst trying to hide a smirk and crinkled eyes. Blaine will smile to himself and play with the buttons on his control pad and when the privacy slider is down Sam smirks at the sight as he watches through the rear view mirror.

 

Kurt has started commenting on Blaine’s outfits more often than and not, he appreciates Blaine’s eye for fashion and likes how similar they dress at times and very different at others, even with the use of the same tailor, Kurt knows that Blaine has always had some flare about him. Kurt never really backs up his words with evidence or personal content, but it is not hard for Blaine to see that Kurt is a man with an impeccable taste for cloth and color, like he just knows, he can just do.   
And Blaine definitely noticed the way that Kurt had sent a pure look of filfth to the mail guy that time in an office building, who appreciated Blaine’s outfit with a little too much interest. 

 

Blaine brings Kurt his coffee, exactly the way he likes it from tired but proud memory every morning, it started with running down the street to pick it up, or sometimes Sam taking him. But when Blaine returned one morning with a tub full of Kurt’s favourite blend and all of the tools and ingredients needed to create the perfect cup, Kurt looked at him in a way that Blaine couldn’t place. 

 

“You don’t have time to stand and make coffee Blaine, there are people who are paid to do that, let them do it.”

 

“Of course I have time, and I’ll just be right here, next door, it’s a no different amount of time to standing in a long line down at the store-”

 

“You wait in line? Don’t you tell them what you do? Who you work for?” 

 

And that had been the first time that Blaine had ever heard Kurt talk like that, not talking down at him and not nastily, just with an edge, a tone of disinterest, like he’s truly above all the other thousands of hard working folk in New York trying to get by and make a living and just wants Coffee to start off their day. 

 

“Um, no Kurt, I don’t, honestly? I don’t think they would care, at all.” Blaine was quiet but clear when he spoke, he actually wasn’t fazed by Kurt’s comment at all, humoured by it if anything.   
Kurt had swallowed and blinked back at him like he was actually, truly comprehending what Blaine was telling him and something softened within Blaine’s chest when Kurt simply nodded with his pink lips pursed, he looked child like, small somehow in his tall frame and strong structure.

 

“Besides,” Blaine offered with a small upturn of his lips, “You can’t do shit if they screw up your coffee, but me, you can do with as you wish.” Blaine made a face and gestured with his hands, “And if I’m here, you can just drag me back when you can’t cope without me for more than Three minutes.” Kurt’s eyes had softened then, and Blaine happily made his boss his coffee from scratch most mornings from that moment on, sometimes Kurt even joined him. 

 

Blaine will wait to gage Kurt’s mood each morning before deciding on what breakfast food to fetch for him, sometimes he’ll ask but mostly likes to surprise him.   
Blaine isn’t really a morning person all that much, but he knows how to behave and act like one rather well, especially when working. Kurt however although has been getting up before the crack of dawn for more years than he cares to count, still needs some persuading on the matter and Blaine loves trying to draw him out from his sleep rough temper with the whiff of freshly brewed coffee and the very slight singe of toasted poppy seed bagels.   
They’ll eat together whilst looking over new emails and then will set about the first tasks of the day, like a real power duo, and Blaine cannot get enough.

 

Now, Blaine finishes sorting the papers with a comical brush of his hands and stacks his finished ‘keep’ pile into a tray on one of the side units, Kurt’s sitting back behind his desk, his phone in his hand and thumbing at the screen pensively. He looks up at Blaine suddenly, and a look crosses his face, the same that tells Blaine he wants to talk about something but doesn’t know how to.

 

“It’s your weekend off coming up.” It’s a mere statement rather than a question but he’s right nonetheless. It is Blaine’s weekend off coming up, and he honestly hadn’t even thought about it. His previous free weekends had been spent catching up on sleep, strolling around the neighbourhood and he and Sam had even met for a beer or two. 

 

But Blaine cannot say that he’d never noticed the way Kurt would pretend to NOT watch him slide into the waiting elevator to take him down and out of the building for the day or night, from his office with a look on his face reminiscent to sadness and almost envy. 

 

“Apparently so, yes.”

 

“Have you much planned?” Blaine is curious that Kurt is curious, he often wonders what Kurt does himself on his free weekends, if he allows himself them. He hopes that he does, Kurt deserves some down time and he also hopes that one day soon he might just find out and perhaps participate. 

 

Though now Kurt is still only offering him quick glances from the screen of his phone whilst keeping his voice even, trying to feign indifference and nonchalance. 

 

“Um, no actually, I hadn’t even remembered-”

 

“Oh whatever.” Kurt rolls his eyes playfully and Blaine smiles.

 

“I like working for you Kurt, you know that, I haven’t had much reason to let my mind wander off to the weekend ahead.” Blaine looks at him with a silent pleading look, its warm and friendly but his eyes are saying ‘I’d hoped you noticed that’. Kurt nods and even lets slip a small smile, his eyes cloud for a second and it’s almost as if he’s silently saying ‘I know, good, I’m glad’. 

 

“You don’t mention your family much, would you not visit with them?” Blaine decides to be honest and ever so pleasant, there’s no reason not to be.

 

“On Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas, maybe, yes. No real need to make the trip at any other time.” Blaine shrugs.

 

“No?” Kurt has lowered his phone, and he’s looking up at Blaine with real interest and maybe a touch of concern.

 

“We uh, my parents and I, we have no need to-”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry, you don’t have to tell me.” Kurt’s face is a little passive, likes he’s trying not to show his emotions but Blaine can tell that he’s still genuinely interested.

 

“Oh no, it’s cool, it’s nothing bad or anything, we just, we’re not as close as most families you know? I mean god we care about each other, we love each other and stuff, but they, my folks just kind of let me get on and do my own thing over the years, and in time I just grew apart from them, learnt to not want or need them around, to not need to know what they think you know?” 

 

Blaine shrugs again, he’s totally fine talking about, he doesn’t see the problem, not anymore. He doesn’t know where it comes from when he adds, “and my brother is just an ass, a lovable ass mind you, we text and stuff but that’s where it ends with us.”

 

“It’s Cooper isn’t it? Cooper Anderson is your brother.” Blaine looks up, eyes wide and lips parted a little, he doesn’t know how Kurt knows his brother and is honestly a little worried. For anybody to associate him with his brother is a worrying matter for Blaine, they are two very different people. He nods and Kurt chuckles.

 

“I’ve seen him ‘networking’ if you will, at certain events.” Blaine’s eyes widen and he restrains his hand from palming his face. “I don’t know if charming is the word I would use for him, for you yes, but for him… maybe something close to surprising.” Kurt smiles softly and continues, “Don’t worry I know that you’re nothing alike, you can’t help who you’re related too, as for knowing about him I just sort of put two and two together from your background and files.”

 

Blaine releases a quick breath and smiles lopsidedly, “He’s harmless really, he’s always been great with-with my being gay, he helped make that easier around my parents-” 

 

“You’re parents were not so great about it?” Blaine swallows, he doesn’t know if he should be telling Kurt all of this, but then, why not right? If anybody, another gay man would understand, and after all Kurt is asking.

 

“More my dad really, I came out when I was Fourteen and I guess he thought that I would, like change my mind or something, and that he could say or do things to help push me back to the straight side you know? I mean he’s accepted it now, but I remember we even worked on this car together, it was awesome but I didn’t let on at the time to the fact that I knew what he was trying to achieve.” 

 

Blaine laughs because he can, he can find the funny side now and Kurt even finds the corners of his lips curling with him, his eyes are wide again, clouding with that emotion again, like a kid trying to hide his true feelings, happy or sad.

 

“Y-you like cars and stuff? You fixed them up?” And Blaine feels like he could bang his fists upon his chest with pride and happiness, he knows where this is going, he’s found a way to maybe allow Kurt to open up, why had he never thought of this before.

 

“Well just that one, but yeah, I wished it were more, I think my skills are rather lacking now though.” 

 

Kurt nods perceptibly, he’s truly weighing something up in his head right now, and Blaine waits, he waits and hopes. Kurt draws in a breath and flicks his gaze to the clock on the far wall.   
“You feel like taking an early dinner? I think those drafts would get a better looking at over a plate of carbs hmm?” 

 

Blaine’s smile is like a thousand dollar photograph worthy at that moment. 

 

*

 

Blaine has just taken a mouthful of wine and buttered a slice of thick sliced, warm fresh bread when Kurt says, “My dad has a tyre shop, back in Lima.” 

 

They’re waiting for their appetizers to arrive in a small restaurant not far from the condo, it’s not their usual choice of eating establishment. It’s nice, real nice, but normally Kurt picks somewhere large and busy and dazzling, with Five Michelin stars and a chef that has their own TV show, that sort of place. 

 

This place is a hearty little Italian which probably only has room for about Eight tables in total, it’s red brick walls are bear with fake vine leaves draped across and upwards and each table has a white tablecloth and a dark glass bottle stuffed with a tall skinny burning candle. The small windows are covered with dark velvet drapes and the lighting is muted, there’s soft music playing quietly and each table is strategically placed so that there is enough space and privacy for a comfortable dining experience, there’s something almost intimate about it.   
The staff are friendly and most importantly non-intrusive, there only appears to be two of them anyway, an older stocky man and a younger guy who looks strikingly like him, both with dark hair and eyes and warm smiles. They take orders, check that drinks don’t need refilled and then leave to fold napkins and polish cutlery and mostly disappear into the kitchen.

 

Their jackets are draped over the backs of their chairs and Kurt has even folded his shirt sleeves up his elbow, with Blaine shortly following his lead. It’s something that Kurt rarely does whilst out in public, he is always one hundred and ten percent dressed impeccably and effortlessly so, but the early evening air is warm out and Kurt seems fairly relaxed tonight, there’s nobody to impress, just Blaine, and that doesn’t take much at all if he’s honest, not when it comes to Kurt.

 

Blaine licks his dry lips, he doesn’t know why but he has always endeavoured to be honest with Kurt, he feels that it’s important.

 

“I know.” He answers quietly. Kurt takes a sip of wine and arches an eyebrow questionably, if it wasn’t for the fact that his lips are pursed around the fine rim of the glass, Blaine knows that he would be sporting that half amused half slightly disgruntled smile. Blaine knows to continue.

 

“Honestly? I didn’t know it when I first met you, when you hired me, but I learnt about it since,” He won’t tell Kurt how, not yet. “It’s pretty incredible, all that you’ve achieved Kurt.” 

 

Kurt lowers his glass back to the table and fiddles with the placement of his butter knife on his bread plate. Blaine can see that Kurt’s uncomfortable with the comment but not in an unpleasant or even an unwanted way, Blaine has never mentioned anything about Kurt’s accomplishments before, this is new for them.

 

Kurt rests his palms flat over the table top and meets Blaine’s warm steady gaze, he looks almost pleased, and not just pleased at the compliment, pleased at the fact that Blaine is humble, not flailing or mindless babbling, he’s just being Blaine. 

 

“Thank you.” He replies and Blaine smiles in return, tearing off a piece of bread and taking a small bite and chewing quietly, he swallows.

 

“You loved it then? Helping your dad, that was something you were interested in?” Kurt’s shoulders ease back and his face visibly relaxes, he picks up the knife and the butter dish from Blaine’s side of the table and starts spreading over a wedge of bread.

 

“Interested? Not really. Loved it? Yeah, I loved being there with my dad, and I was able to save up some pretty decent money.” Blaine smiles and steals the dish back from Kurt with a look of mischief which Kurt smirks at, he butters another slice and Kurt pours water from the jug into both of their spare tumblers. 

 

It’s so easy, so normal all of this, and Blaine feels brave, and knows that Kurt is feeling almost brave too. Blaine has signed an NDA, but Kurt doesn’t have to tell Blaine anything, Kurt is sitting on the edge of choosing to trust Blaine, and Blaine’s chest feels warm and tight. 

 

“Do-do you mind me asking about it? Your range, the-the Mechanic wear?” Kurt smiles and looks strangely easy and calm, though isn’t this what he had been expecting, hasn’t he not been setting up this whole scenario, to talk about it.   
Kurt takes a long drawn out breath.

 

“I didn’t fit in much at school, mostly kept myself to myself but I never became less than who I was, I was proud to be me. I had Glee club, which you know about, but I only just tolerated that, it was hardly a walk in the park for me either.” 

 

He pauses to take a sip of water and Blaine chews quietly, eyes fixed on Kurt’s face. “I didn’t always get the songs that I wanted or the parts in the plays and musicals that I felt I could do, and that was mostly because of who I was, and I remember one day talking to my dad about it, and he- he said something like, I had to go and get what I wanted for myself, create my own roles and whatever.” 

 

Blaine smiled and then it suddenly faltered. “You-you could talk to your dad about that stuff? Being different? Being Gay?” 

 

“Yeah, it took a little bit of time for us to get to that stage, but he said he always knew, said he’d always love me no matter what-”

 

“That’s amazing Kurt-”

 

“Yeah, he’s- my dad’s an amazing man.” Blaine doesn’t know what to say, he wants Kurt to keep talking and doesn’t want to deflect him with too many questions, Kurt seems to pick this up and continues willingly like he needs to move on quickly.

 

“I always made my own clothes and accessories, I’d put together outfits for all seasons and I’d come down to the shop wearing what I deemed to be ‘appropriate’ wear for lugging around heavy, greasy car parts and my dad would just roll his eyes and get on with his work, though I knew he was always impressed.” Kurt smacked his lips a little smugly and Blaine grinned. 

 

“One day a lady came into the shop to have her car tyres changed and commented nicely on my coveralls and gloves, basically to cut a long story short, she told me that she owned a small boutique in the area where she made and sold her own stuff, mostly bags and scarves, stuff like that, and she gave me some tips and pointers,” Kurt pauses for a drink and Blaine loves the way he’s becoming a little more animated. 

 

“So I spent the next few months throwing myself into experimenting with all of these different fabrics and stuff and in a week had made a full range, I guess it was residual stress and anger from school, even though at this point I’d gladly washed my hands of the place and I just needed something to deeply lose myself in. So I took all of these finished products to this ladies store to show her and she gave me some contact details, took a few snaps of my handiwork and…bam…I took a call one night and…here we are, not exactly writing my own stage role but…” 

 

“That’s so great Kurt, wow, so you didn’t go to College?”

 

“I wanted to, but…life gets in the way I suppose-”

 

“Life gets in the way of life?” 

 

“Yeah…I guess it does…somehow.” 

 

Kurt looks down at the table wistfully, his hands are braced down on the white table cloth and if Blaine flexed his fingers just a fraction outwards past his side dish, their hands would be brushing.   
He considers this, deeply until Kurt’s head snaps up, his jaw is set and shoulders squared, his eyes hardened, gray under the dim candle light and Blaine knows he’s back, the other Kurt. 

 

“Anyway look where I am now, no College or anything needed huh… I showed them.” Blaine blinks and before he can open his mouth to say something the waiter appears with their first course.

 

The remainder of their time at the restaurant is back to strictly business terms, they talk about a possible new office space opening upstate whilst they finish their appetizers, and whilst waiting for their main courses to arrive they make sure their schedules for the week are in sync. 

 

It’s a little on the awkward on side for a short while and Blaine hates that it is, but he perseveres and remains as his usual resilient, buoyant self, nodding and humming along proficiently to everything that Kurt mutters to him from across their little table.

 

By the time that they finish their main meals, the dishes have been cleared and the bottle of wine is upturned in the ice bucket to signal that it is empty, Kurt is tapping something out on his phone, his brow furrowed and feet tapping lightly under the table. Blaine can feel the vibrations on the floorboards under his feet and along the base of the table and has the unknowing urge to rub the side of his shoe up against Kurt’s to calm the movement. He probably would have it wasn’t for the fact that Kurt would be less than pleased with any resulting scuff marks on his Giorgio Armani Balmorals, that and the fact that’s it highly inappropriate.

 

But this is the thing though, the thing that Blaine can’t stop contemplating, and now when Kurt is frowning down at his small screen, his features schooled into harsh definitions and slight wrinkles creasing his forehead and his strong shoulders bunching causing the thin stretch of his shirt to pull deliciously, still impossibly gorgeous, Blaine is starting to forgo the line between appropriate and not so much with Kurt, he’s starting to dangerously though intentionally choose to ignore it. 

 

And even then, when has anything ever between them from the interview to now, been seen as completely and wholly appropriate? Blaine finds it hard to believe that most job interviews go down the same way theirs did, but still Blaine said yes regardless, he agreed to Kurt’s T&C’s and is still so, so very glad that he did, he still can’t find reason to care. 

 

Blaine lightly runs his finger along the edge of his water glass as he watches Kurt who peeks up when he feels Blaine’s eyes on him, and there’s a moment, a moment of uncaring that he’s been caught, a moment of Kurt actually allowing himself to stare back, deep cerulean into deep hazel, bright and earnest over the top of the lone, slow burning flame. 

 

Kurt licks his lips and Blaine swallows hard, and then with oh so perfect fucking timing, their waiter arrives obliviously with one dish and two forks held out before them politely. Blaine arches an eyebrow and Kurt clears his throat, “I um, I took the liberty, when you went to the restroom before, you’ll like it, I promise” 

 

Kurt has never made Blaine a promise before and no matter little or large the reason, something stirs in Blaine’s stomach, he wants Kurt to say more things like that to him. Blaine knows that he will trust Kurt, now and later and later still, he will value Kurt’s promises. 

 

The waiter smiles at the exchange as he places the small white square plate down on the centre of the table between the two and lifts the empty bottle from the bucket of water and melting ice, “Another, sirs?” 

 

“No thank you, what we have left should suffice.” There is still some wine left in their glasses and they have a little water left in the jug. The waiter politely nods and leaves and Kurt picks up his fork but nudges the plate an incher closer to Blaine first who is grinning bashfully back at him.

 

“I thought one each may be a little too much, but this amount to share would be perfect.” Yes, Blaine thinks immediately, this is perfect. 

 

He picks up his fork and cuts into the desert, slicing a small divide at the corner when he realizes Kurt is waiting for him to start. It’s a large wedge of cheesecake, white and creamy on the top with drizzles of what looks to be both chocolate and syrup all along the centre. The biscuit base crumbles under the tines of the fork and there’s a dab of cream neatly shaped to the side.

 

Kurt waits until Blaine has closed his lips around the first bite and literally looks like he’s tasting heaven on his tongue, he then digs in too. 

 

“This is my most favourite kind in the whole of the city, sometimes I come here just for this alone.” He swallows and licks his lips, and Blaine’s eyes bulge and simmer slightly, reflecting from the flame like embers. “I have even shamelessly sent my driver for takeout orders of this more times than I care to think about, sometimes a man just need his carbs, you know.” 

 

He allows himself a short deep chuckle and Blaine’s face alights as he watches Kurt’s face soften and smooth out. 

 

“A man after my own heart.” The words though quiet and playful slip out before Blaine even has the chance to even realize it. Kurt’s eyes lift to his, a momentary pause in his chewing, there’s the tiniest dabble of cream just to the corner of Kurt’s lip and god only knows how much Blaine wants to help wipe it away. 

 

He’s saved from his self and his unforgiving thoughts when Kurt dabs a napkin over his mouth, takes a sip from his wine glass and then with slightly flushed cheeks as if by way of distraction says, “Um C-Carole has, I-I asked her to try and create this right down to the toppings, and even though she has some beautiful signature dishes, this is all I ever expect her to make now.”

 

Blaine stabs another piece onto his fork with a laugh, trailing it through the cream and making sure to pick up some of the sticky drizzle. He’s still smiling as his eyes shift and he thinks about what he wants to say in reply to kurt, he knows the consequences of this but Kurt’s mood seems to have lifted a little, he’ll never know until he tries and he wants to try with Kurt, he wants to know.

 

“Does she make you them often, do you visit back home in Lima much?” Kurt lifts his gaze from the plate but doesn’t meet Blaine’s eyes. He completely ignores the first part of the question, aiming straight for the second part no matter how much Blaine tried to sugar coat it.

 

“My home is here in Manhattan. Carole comes to visit me here…sometimes.” Oh, he decides to push, he may not get another opportunity.

 

“A-and your dad-”

 

“And my dad stays back in Lima, working in his garage.”

 

And there it is, within barely two full questions Blaine has learnt what appears to be a crack in the very foundations of Kurt’s demeanour, and his chest thuds with the pain that he sees flash across Kurt’s face before it disappears again within milliseconds. 

 

“Not ‘most’ families are close.” Kurt finally adds, his words quiet and rough and dismissive, he signals for the waiter to bring them their cheque, and that is that.

 

Blaine doesn’t know anything, anything at all to do with Kurt’s dad or home life (his Lima home life), but he already gets it, he already understands.  
He may have just catapulted Kurt back into one of his moods for the rest of the evening, but he can deal with that, he is actually starting to get somewhere with Kurt now and that’s what matters to him. 

 

Yes it’s only been a couple of months of knowing each other, but it’s been almost Nine weeks of living and working under the same roof during more waking hours of the day than sleeping, and that is enough time to feel that connection with somebody, enough time to feel that pull to want to help and to be in, Blaine just wants Kurt to let him in.

 

And deep down beneath it all, Blaine is starting to feel that with every misplaced comment and question, every lingering look or touch of hands and fingers, Kurt is slowing getting there, Kurt is starting to let him in.


	5. Chapter 5

The sun is pouring in hot and sticky through the office windows of the condo and Blaine thinks that if he slackens his bowtie or undoes one more button at his collar or cuffs, he may as well not be wearing an appropriate suit at all. His curls are breaking free from their mould and his jaw feels itchy from his morning shave, the simple barely there hum of the computer is giving him a head ache and the AC isn’t doing as good of a job as he knows it should be, state of the art or not.   
Heat is good, Blaine likes the sun and the warm weather but not in these circumstances.  
He’s pondering these thoughts and toying with the idea of what office slacks may look like paired with some leather strapped sandals, when Kurt appears in the doorway. 

 

Clearly Kurt is also affected by the gruelling August weather and is dressed not far off from Blaine’s makeshift summer office wear. His shirt sleeves are rolled up and he’s about one long gold heavy chain away from looking like an overly dressed frat boy with his extra-unbuttoned black shirt and light grey loose Chinos. His hair is a little dishevelled and his brow looks damp like’s he just wiped a cool cloth over it, but regardless of all of the above, he still looks incredibly and unfairly hot, in both the literal and the physical sense. 

 

It’s midweek, a little after Three in the afternoon and the two have been uncharacteristically in their separate offices for most of the day, trying to concentrate on their own deadlines before the end of the working week.   
Kurt’s deep gaze drags over Blaine’s body as if he hasn’t seen him for weeks, and then has the audacity to try to act like he did no such thing as he leans against the doorframe.

 

Blaine sits back in his chair, almost panting at the sight in front of him mixed with his other need for cool fresh air. No matter how many ice-cold lemonades Santana has brought him since she dropped by a little earlier today to do some chores, cooling off with refreshments is now no longer an option and with the way Kurt shifts restlessly on the balls of his feet, Blaine gets the feeling that he’s not alone in that feeling.

 

It’s been Four Months now here with Kurt, and although there still hasn’t been a great deal of personal back stories shared, there are improvements nonetheless.   
Blaine has learnt that Santana makes a living for herself in the city in a variety of ways and happily and unashamedly so. She’s signed up to a modelling/advertising agency and does the occasional shoot, nothing ‘star’ worthy but enough to add to her resume. She’s not a sell out, she’s just slowly building up recognition and merits for something that she still isn’t entirely sure of.  
Santana has a hell of a set of lungs on her as Blaine overheard one morning when she was scrubbing the tiles of his shower and her power ballads playlist was on loud speaker over on the counter. She’s recorded some jingles and provided back up for some one hit wonders at both live events and in studio recordings, and the whole ‘cleaning’ for Kurt thing started as a joke and then continued as the result of a lost bet.

 

Santana enjoys working for Kurt, she told Blaine that herself even though ‘work’ is a loose sense of the word, and like Kurt had said about keeping his friends close, he gets the feeling that Santana feels the same way. It’s like she likes to be within a short ‘supporting’ distance of Kurt, to be there for him in more ways than none, and that ‘working’ is the best excuse for that, the money from all of her ‘side jobs’ mixed with Kurt’s paying salary is keeping her steadily on her toes until her big break of whatever that may be for her, and as far as Blaine can gather she’s more than fine with that.

 

As for Sam, even though they now go out on Blaine’s free nights sometimes, or enjoy a few games of cards at the breakfast island, and Blaine may thinks that he may now have found a valid reason to dust off of his Xbox, Blaine still hasn’t got to his history yet. Whenever Blaine tries to sway the conversation towards that direction, Sam always responds with, ‘Kurt is a great guy and has helped me more than anyone can know’, and Blaine doesn’t really like to press, not with sweet, quiet Sam. Blaine’s working on it though. 

 

As Blaine had hoped prior to his interview, he has made a friend, he’s made three, he hopes, and he continues shamelessly hoping for more, more from one of his ‘new’ friends.   
Santana is useful to him in more ways than none and he’s thankful for heavy yet also light hearted presence in the house. Although she fires Kurt up to no end, she also loosens him up, and Blaine is starting to see snippets of a slightly happier, more care-free Kurt, the more the three of them spend time together. Blaine also lets himself think that it could also just be himself, he is helping Kurt open up and be more of himself that he knows he can be, not ‘business Kurt’. 

 

It’s been two months and nothing has been mentioned of their dinner at the Italian restaurant, and what Kurt had said. Blaine thinks about talking to Santana about it sometimes, but really what’s the point, he doubts that it’s nothing she doesn’t already know, and Blaine still has to remember that he is working for Kurt, it’s not appropriate for him to ask such things, not yet. Blaine also remembers the argument he overheard between the two that time, in Kurt’s office. Blaine won’t forget, but he’ll wait, as always. 

 

“Um,” Kurt gestures a thumb over his shoulder casually, “You wanna head out?” Blaine doesn’t need to know where or why, and it’s not an uncommon question, sometimes there is just that need to get out and air their heads, as always he follows. And with the way Kurt is looking at him a little hopefully, with flushed cheeks and plump lips, Blaine doesn’t need any other reason than that and is already rising from his chair whilst closing down all of the open windows on his computer desktop. Not like Blaine would ever say no to Kurt anyway and not just because he’s his boss.

 

Kurt’s lips raise at the corners when he sees how Blaine eager is and glances over what Blaine’s wearing discreetly, he smirks at how crumpled his cute little purple bowtie is, almost hanging from his neck though still tied at the ends.  
“Hey, um, why don’t we lose the tie huh.”

 

Blaine straightens and looks on incredulously, grinning shyly when he sees Kurt smiling at him like he understands, “Oh, um o-ok.”

 

“In fact,” Kurt bites his lip and looks up to the ceiling in thought, “let’s lose the office gear altogether,” He glances out of the window to the bright blue skies and fierce yellow sun and Blaine follows the movement, he gets the meaning, “meet me at the elevator in five.”   
His eyes flick back to Blaine’s, deep and powerful and blazing and then he’s gone and Blaine is left alone in his small office, with parted dry lips and feeling a little more than just hot under the collar.

 

When they meet up again Blaine has to double take, swallow hard and then look again as he drags a canvas boat shoed, sockless foot over the squeaky hardwood floors, just for something to do. He was a little worried at his own outfit choice, a simple pale blue polo unbuttoned down to his chest matched with khaki knee length fitted shorts and a pair of yellow Ray Bans, but decided to run with it nonetheless giving the short time frame he’d been given, and actually found himself feeling overdressed upon spying Kurt trotting down the steps a minute or so after him.

 

Kurt’s hair looks like a well placed hand has been ran though it, sticking up stylishly at the tips, and Blaine sub-consciously runs a hand over his own hair where he tried to re-style his curls with a dab of water. Kurt’s long lightly haired strong legs are uncovered with a pair of three-quarter length charcoal chequered cargo shorts and a pair of flip flops on his feet. His chest, smooth and pale and hard is positively bulging through the thin fabric of a black tank top and Blaine would bet anything that his shoulders would be rippling under the loose white short sleeved shirt that’s hanging open off of them. 

 

Blaine wants to raise his fingers to his chin just to make sure that his mouth is not in fact hanging open, Blaine has never seen Kurt dressed so casual yet powerfully charismatic before. In fact he has never seen anybody ooze such superior energy and still undeniably fashionable whilst wearing a pair of Kurt Geiger sandals, Kurt is most definitely one of a kind.

 

Kurt twirls a pair of reflective aviators in his fingers as he comes to stand before Blaine and pushes the button to call up the elevator, there’s a small smirk playing on his lips as he glances over at Blaine, knowing fine well what he must be thinking. 

 

The elevator doors slide open with a ding and Kurt steps inside, head raised and shoulders rolling with each careful stride. Blaine follows, coming to stand beside him, hands fidgeting at his sides and at a loss for words some reason, god its only clothes.

 

“I like you in summer wear Blaine.” Kurt surprisingly and bravely decides to say into the quiet and Blaine is a heartbeat away from letting all thoughts tumble from his lips of exactly how he feels about Kurt’s summer attire when the unmistakable wolf whistle from where Santana was last seen mopping the kitchen tiles can be heard just before the metal doors slide closed, both men pointedly choose to ignore it.

 

*

 

Central park is no less busy than expected, there is no space over the whole proximity of the place that isn’t occupied by people of all ages and size and sorts, soaking up the rays. Everybody seems to have the same idea, there are throngs of suits and ties sitting on the fountains edge, families with picnic blankets and deck chairs, jogger with dogs running alongside with lolling tongues. 

 

Kurt has found them a spot slightly in the shade under a large tree out in the open, there are other groups huddled around but far enough way for them to ‘be on their own’. Their little spot is still warm enough to sit happily on the grass with their bare arms and legs out on display but not enough to get burnt by the unforgiving sun. 

 

Kurt is propped up against the tree trunk, his glorious legs stretched out in front of him and ankles crossed, phone in hand and a can of soda balanced by his thigh, he seems relaxed and calm basking in the slight rays filtering through the leaves and the branches and Blaine could just look at him like this all day, he hopes that the dark lenses of his shades will provide some lenience for that.

 

Blaine is sitting beside him, facing him with crossed legs and hands balanced on the ground at his sides, providing purchase for him to lean back. They’re sitting on a comfy plaid blanket which Sam had fetched from the back of the Lexus and thrust into Blaine’s hands, they didn’t need transporting today and Sam had been told to go and cool off for the afternoon.

 

Blaine also has his phone laid out on the blanket in front of him and his head is lowered as he taps at the screen, a collective ding from both hand-sets rings out and Kurt’s head snaps up as Blaine smirks.

 

“You just got her email right?” Blaine grins.

 

“Yeah, we can do tomorrow, that shouldn’t be a problem, if we just move back-”

 

“I don’t want to move Robert back, because then we’ll miss our reservations later-”

 

“Kurt, don’t worry, we’ll cancel the brunch meeting, that’s not important and then if we head over to the-”

 

Blaine was cut off by Kurt’s short brusque laugh, his head leaning back against the rough bark of the tree trunk, ruffling his hair. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed at the bridge of his nose and the corners of his eyes which were illuminated by the bright of the day. Blaine laughed with him knowing what Kurt was laughing about, he loved this about them, how in sync they were, they really were a perfect team.

 

“You know for a bank manager, you’d think she’d be a bit more punctual-”

 

“Well she’s not and you like this one, so lets just compromise and-”

 

“I don’t even know why we have to go, it’s not like she’s going to say anything I don’t already know.” Blaine doesn’t miss the ‘we’ and wonders whether it was intended or not.

 

“I think it’s important to be told that your riches are safe and still earning their keep locked up in a Vault guarded by Dragons-” Kurt laughs again and tips his chin to look at Blaine, eyes alight, he looks almost angelic in this light, his face no longer strained with tension or mundane tiredness. 

 

“You just wanna go, because you like the way she looks at your ass.” Blaine is still smiling and doesn’t know whether to tense up or grin harder at Kurt’s playful comment. Their working relationship and friendship has grown into this now, easy teasing and playful back and forth’s but Kurt has never said anything like that to him before.

 

Words rise up without permission at the back of Blaine throat and he fights to bite them back down, ‘are you jealous?’ thankfully Kurt saves him before they get the chance by prodding his knee with his sandaled foot, “Ok, make whatever changes you need to, she’ll hopefully only keep us for Twenty minutes tops.”

 

Kurt isn’t wrong, his Bank Manager seemingly felt like she didn’t need to hide the fact that she was openly checking him out, even in her Forty-Eight years of age with a Twenty year marriage and three kids, and even then Kurt had still possessed that peeved look about it him, but gracious all the same. 

 

Blaine nods and swallows, he picks up his phone and starts thrashing out emails and messages to amend tomorrow’s schedule. He feels Kurt’s sandal rub against the bare skin of his knee again trying to get his attention and he looks up at him, it feels better than it should and Kurt is in a playful mood today so it seems, Blaine tries to contain his shiver. He wonders if Kurt even knows what he is doing.

 

“So, you remember me telling you about that press conference event right, it’s in a couple of weeks time in California?”

 

“The one that you’d said you weren’t attending this year?”

 

“Yes, that one, I’ve changed my mind, I want- I think I should go.” Blaine grins a little at him and lowers his phone.

 

“I knew you’d change your mind, you act like you’re not, but you are a social butterfly and you can’t keep away from such possible juicy, idle gossip.” Blaine draws out the words comically and Kurt rolls his eyes with a smirk. He knows that Kurt knows he is only joking and that, that is not the reason why he’s changed his mind. Kurt is very instantaneous in his decision making and there could be a million things running through his head, Blaine has learnt to never completely take everything that Kurt says so seriously, Kurt can be very rash. 

 

“Yeah, yeah what’s your point, so um, I’ll forward you the details so that you can book-”

 

“I’m on it,” Blaine nods his head as he goes back to typing away, “I’ll book you an early flight so that you can get there and check in early, freshen up, I’ll call up and see if the penthouse suite is still available for you.” 

 

“Us.” Blaine looks up, he hears the word, but doesn’t understand why Kurt is saying it, not instantly. Kurt catches his eye and continues before Blaine can formulate anything.

 

“You’ll be coming too, I know that we’ve never discussed it recently, but it is in your job description, it’s just that nothing has came up before now that I’ve needed you to attend with me, publically.”

 

Blaine blinks and nods, he’s not shocked, he shouldn’t be, Kurt’s right this was addressed in the interview process, it’s just that, it’s actually happening. There may be press and photographers and interviewers, and Blaine will be there, with Kurt, watching it all firsthand. He’d never consciously thought about that side of the job before and doesn’t know how he feels about it, honestly. He manages to find his voice finally as he swallows a couple of times and looks back down to his phone in his hands.

 

“Of course, yes. I’ll see that they have two suites then, or I could just book a double room on the floor below for myself-”

 

“Why?” Blaine blinks back up and Kurt is now leaning forward, hands braced on his own legs, head tilted to the side and looking at Blaine like he has taken a particular brand of crazy pills this morning. Blaine is starting to feel like he has, he doesn’t know why is brain isn’t catching up to common sense today, he blames the heat.  
Kurt continues once again without leaving room for Blaine to talk his way through whatever issues his brain is having, there is a slight upturn to his lips and Blaine instantly relaxes knowing that Kurt is at least still enjoying himself, even if it is at Blaine’s expense.

 

“Blaine, we live together, why do you think that we need two separate suites? The penthouse will have enough space and a bedroom and a bathroom each, it will be just like being back at home, and it’s only one night.” 

 

Home. The word sounds comfortable rolling off of Kurt’s tongue, Blaine likes the way it sounds and the way that Kurt’s face softens when he says it, he doesn’t know what’s different about the word now as apposed to a couple of months ago. He doesn’t know what exactly it is about all of this but there is definitely something that is making Blaine’s stomach flutter with the thought, of spending a night away, working away with Kurt.

 

Blaine tightens his jaw and nods, he smiles and before he looks down at his phone, his eyes catch with Kurt’s, bright and shining, understanding.

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

*

 

The conference is a fashion event of sorts, it’s held annually and usually in the same place over the course of one weekend. It’s opened up to a large portion of the public who can buy tickets and win contests in order to get a space, it’s very similar to a lot of common fan based events where people and celebrities show up to show appreciation for the same subject and dedicators of that subject, in this case, its fashion.

 

Kurt has been invited to join the panels and the festivities here every year, ever since his face was printed on a cover of Time some years ago, and he still doesn’t know why that even was. Kurt had enthusiastically accepted each offer up until a few years back, when he decidedly grew tired of it and stopped attending.  
Kurt is not here to work this year, he’s here simply as an event guest, to come and go as he pleases, he isn’t taking part in a panel this year, but the invite is always there. He may no doubt may be asked to be interviewed once or twice over the course of his time here, but it will be different for him this year, the whole experience, he’s not alone, he has Blaine, and that is interesting enough in itself.

 

They arrive on Saturday morning, and after checking in to their hotel and enjoying a room service breakfast of fruit and croissants in the dining area of their suite, they freshen up and head downstairs to the chauffeured car that the event organizers had sent for them.

 

There’s no need for them to dress for ‘work’ this weekend, Kurt had made that clear when packing for the trip, but Blaine still cant help but to gape in surprised delight and lick his lips a little from behind the kitchen counter, when Kurt obliviously strides into the shared living area, wearing fitted dark jeans, a white shirt tucked into the waistline behind a brown distressed leather belt with matching shoes and a casual patterned scarf draped around his neck.

 

With a little encouragement from Kurt and the assistance of their tailor Blaine had packed similar clothes for the weekend and had opted for a pair of dark jeans which clung to his thighs and backside and rolled up at his ankles, a black fitted t-shirt and a red lightweight cardigan over the top. He was excited and he didn’t think that he would be, he wasn’t dreading it, he just didn’t think that the thought of clothes would ever appeal to him in this way so much, or maybe it was the thought of Kurt dressed like that and glued to his side for the next day ahead that was so appealing. 

 

After retrieving their various VIP passes in forms of wristbands and neck pieces, they spend the first hour or so walking around the venue. They pick up a coffee each as they walk around the various stalls and stands, and Blaine smiles politely at those who approach Kurt, wanting to say hello and taking the odd photo with him, Blaine assumes they are fans, fashion students and keen magazine readers. 

 

Kurt is not overly famous or recognisable everywhere that he goes, and Blaine is a little thankful for that, but here is like his domain, these people are his people, they talk his talk and Blaine is starting to see just how wide his success has spread. Kurt has opened up a few ranges since his first all those years ago, he has teamed and partnered up with a few associates and is now looking to invest in something new, something different and edgy.

 

Kurt makes polite small talk with a few faces who Blaine recognises from various places and when he moves on back into the security of Blaine’s side and the brightly, beautifully and mostly uniquely dressed crowds he mutters into Blaine’s ear about what he truly thinks about them. It’s more easy going and laidback here than what Blaine had expected, but honestly he didn’t know what to expect at all, he just knows that he is thoroughly enjoying himself so far.  
They eat lunch at a salad bar in the VIP section in the catering tent and drink light sparkling wine whilst Kurt tells Blaine stories from the previous year’s events.

 

One of the panels that Kurt is always invited to join consists of a handful of a variety of designers, old and new, young and old and from all walks of life. Not your average run of the mill talented folk, who make a range and then bask in the limelight forevermore. This panel is for ongoing designers who strive to create and recreate over and over again, producing new and specific ranges, some gifted to charities and to the less advantaged fashion conscious population. It’s a prestigious panel and those invited to join are often known as privileged and envied gratefully by many.

 

Something settles within Blaine’s stomach and rises up to his chest, something close to pride, the way Kurt is approached and spoken to here, the way the staff are tentative around him, Kurt is respected here, he is considered important here and though he is his normal quiet and closed off self in response, he is nothing short of polite and appreciative. 

 

They’re making their way through the line to where the panel is about to begin-Kurt may not be joining this time but he would still like to watch from the audience- when there’s a set of simultaneous flashes up ahead and a chorus of voices. Blaine feels Kurt tense beside them as they move forward and before he can realize why, Kurt’s name is being called by more than one voice and they are being ushered unwillingly over to a barrier beside the room entrance where there are a small group of mostly men holding cameras and microphones.

 

Oh. 

 

“Mr Hummel you’re back, why are you not behind the panel this year?”

 

“Kurt, is it true that-”

 

“Kurt, where have you been, could you tell us what you’re working on at the moment-”

 

“Mr Hummel, who is your new friend?” 

 

“Assistant, friend or other?”

 

The voices are all unnecessarily loud and their tones a shade shy of obtrusive, Blaine can’t say that he’s liking it all that much, he wants to turn to Kurt for guidance. 

 

“Mr Hummel, Kurt, Hi, good to see you again, is this your new assistant?” Blaine’s eye dart to where the last question had been fired from to find a petite woman battling her way to the front of the barrier, with a microphone and an intent, determined gaze. Blaine thinks that Kurt is going to ignore all of the call outs until he steps forward towards the woman and offers a small wave.

 

“Hey, it’s good to see you again too, been a while.” He knows her, Blaine thinks, he steps forward also as Kurt continues, he doesn’t know what else to do.   
“Yes it is, my only assistant, this is Blaine, Blaine Anderson.” Kurt turns to Blaine with a small smile and a subtle head nod, his gaze is steady on his and Blaine swallows and nods towards the woman who is grinning at him with a look that says she already knows who he is.

 

“Hello.” Blaine offers with a slight squeak which he didn’t permit. This is all knew territory for him, Blaine is used to talking to people, answering questions and charming the pants off of anybody, but this is all new, it’s different. 

 

“Yes hello dear, how are you finding your new boss?” Kurt laughs lightly and Blaine feels it through where their arms are rubbing lightly together in the close proximity.

 

“Oh delightful, Kurt is great to work for, I-I’m loving being here also, it’s so exciting.” He’s not lying. Kurt smiles and catches eyes with the woman as she holds her microphone out further. 

 

“Sweet,” she says mostly to herself, “So Kurt you’re not speaking from the panel today, we haven’t seen you here for a while, may I ask why?”

 

“You may,” he smiles, “I’m just, I have been hanging back and although I’m back this year, I’m interested in what will be released and up and coming and honestly I just want to try and relax and enjoy myself… I don’t have anything new to brag about either, but you know me always something in the pipeline.” He offers a playful smirk and a raised eyebrow and the reporter chuckles.

 

“Good for you,” she says, “and Blaine,” Blaine startles at the mention of his name, he’s not expecting more questioning, or any at all for that matter. “I know you said that you’re enjoying yourself here today, but honestly how does it feel being here on this side, working under somebody like Kurt.”

 

“Oh –um,” Blaine clears his throat, “Could you um- I-I don’t understand the question?” 

 

The reporter grins that same sweet smile but there is a hint of something else there now, something a little disconcerting and Blaine feels Kurt tense once again. The doors are opening behind them and the staff are calling for the VIP guests to enter and take their seats.

 

The woman raises her voice to keep their attention, “Well before this job you were on your way to your stardom yourself were you not? How does it feel losing all of that and being on this side of it all, I’ve heard that you-”

 

Blaine feels something firm and warm grip at his upper arm and he’s suddenly stumbling backwards. “Thank you for your time.” Kurt almost grits out as politely as possible still and pulls Blaine further along with him until they are through the doors and in the quiet of the conference room, with just a treacle of people filtering in from the other entrances of the room. 

 

They take their seats and Blaine misses the feel of Kurt’s reassuring palm curled around his arm, Kurt is muttering something under his breath about why he stopped coming to these events and Blaine’s head feels like its spinning on his shoulders. Kurt turns his face towards Blaine but his eyes are downcast, his voice is low and the people around are starting to filter in excitedly around them, Blaine almost doesn’t hear Kurt speak. “I- I am, um, are you ok?” 

 

Blaine is a little surprised at the question and he honestly doesn’t know how to answer it. He crosses a leg over the other and leans back, trying to get comfortable, he turns inwards a little bit towards Kurt, causing their knees to knock and brush but neither men move.  
“Yes, I’m fine, a-are you?” 

 

Kurt looks at him, and his eyes are blue and deep and full, empathetic, he nods. “We-we can talk about it if you want, not here, later.”

 

“Don’t you have a manager or something, aren’t you supposed to have one at these things for those reasons.” Blaine doesn’t know where the question has sprung from, it just did, he’s curious and the words sound bitter, they feel bitter on his tongue, but he doesn’t mean them to be. Kurt inhales and then releases a short breath. 

 

“Managers are for movie stars and platinum recording artists, not people like me, I don’t need one, I have taken care of myself long enough, and that’s no different now.”

 

“Kurt-”

 

“Later, Blaine.” Kurt words are collected and his tone even and Blaine feels himself ease with how surprisingly calm Kurt is. The seats on either side of them are filled and Blaine smiles politely at their new neighbours whilst Kurt pulls out his phone and pretends to look busy. Their knees remain lightly brushing each other, like some form of comfort is being passed through the touch of their fabric covered legs.

 

Blaine knows that he should maybe feel a bit upset, he should feel a little shocked and deflated. He and Kurt haven’t really discussed Blaine’s past career in that much depth, and that woman had certainly done her research, he doesn’t understand, he doesn’t know why he is being asked questions like that. 

 

All he knows is that right now, he does feel a strange comfort that he didn’t know he needed with Kurt sitting broodingly quiet beside him, he doesn’t feel dejected like he thinks that he should.   
He is looking forward to later, as Kurt has promised him, he is always going to look forward to more.


	6. Chapter 6

Their suite is cool when they finally make their way back up to it at around Six O’clock, and the temperature is a kind greeting from the heat of the day, spent walking around fully clothed with a couple hundred other people.

 

After the conference Kurt had escorted Blaine out through one of the back entrances and remained within the VIP section for the rest of the day, they were barely bothered by anybody apart from an older bartender in the refreshments tent who recognized Kurt for his mechanic line and started talking about cars. Kurt happily humoured the guy and talked about the Lexus and the number of cars that his dad had taught him about and Blaine enjoyed watching, and taking part with his own snippets.

 

Blaine had been quiet that afternoon but not strangely so and in return Kurt was just his normal self on a bad day, nothing new really.   
When the balls of their feet were starting to ache and the need for comfier clothes and a shower became rather pressing, they made their way out to the car lot and the pick up zone with an accompanying member of staff to find their driver. They walked with their heads down when flashes were fired in their direction and didn’t look up or breathe normally until they were in the back of their car and on their way back to the hotel. 

 

Kurt had disappeared for the next couple of hours when they got back, walking to his room and closing the door behind him without an utter of a word. Blaine had taken that opportunity to do the same, he lay on his bed allowing himself to just reflect, he took a long shower and changed into a loose pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he rubbed a towel through his hair and left the curls to dry and pop up on his head. 

 

He’s enjoying a glass of red wine, sitting at the long window seat which looks out onto the purple sun-setting evening sky and the lights of the city below when Kurt’s bedroom door creaks open from across the room and he pads out quietly.

 

He’s wearing clothes almost identical to Blaine’s though his t-shirt is snug around his chest and arms, his hair is sticking up and over to one side, clearly still damp and hand rubbed and his eyes are soft, bright still in the darkening room with only the lessening daylight from the window, as he notices Blaine sitting there, watching him carefully.

 

Blaine doesn’t know if it will be awkward between them, it shouldn’t be, but with Kurt anything is possible. 

 

Kurt pads barefooted over to the kitchen counter and picks up an empty wine glass from the rack, he looks around clearly searching for something else until he notices Blaine lift up a dark green bottle from the tiled floor below and hold it out to him, silently in question.

 

When Kurt approaches him, Blaine unplugs the stopper from the top and pours the dark red liquid generously into Kurt’s glass, he shuffles backwards and scoops his leg up, bent at the knee and close to his body. Kurt sits down in the space made for him opposite. 

 

“Thank you,” Blaine nods his head in response as he takes a sip and looks out through the window again. “Have you eaten?” 

 

Blaine glances back over to Kurt and his chest thuds at how fucking beautiful he looks right now, so dressed down and simple, with shower soft skin, and the clean scent of soap and shampoo and just him wafting over filling Blaine’s nostrils. His face is highlighted by the glow from outside, eyes so wide and clear and more green than blue.

 

“Um no- I-I was waiting for-I thought maybe you’d want to order in?” Kurt hums around the glass as he takes a sip.

 

“Oh, yes, that’d be great actually, um thank you.” Blaine smiles and looks away again, he feels deeply relaxed for some reason, maybe it was the hot water, maybe it’s the wine. He feels tired but his body is awake, he feels almost strangely content, and he can’t understand it.

 

Kurt looks over his shoulder behind him and seems delighted to find the Hotel phone handset sitting up on the counter just behind him, he’s thankful he doesn’t have to move other than stretch an arm and a hand upwards. He orders a range of side dishes, all things quick and easy and great for sharing, not exactly healthy but he could care less, and another bottle of wine. He places the phone on the seat beside him and looks back at Blaine who is pretending like he hasn’t been watching. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

 

Blaine raises his eyebrows at the window but doesn’t look at Kurt straight away, he knows that Kurt will be looking back at him so deeply, so intently right now that Blaine may not be able to contain the soft gasp that he knows will escape his lips, maybe wine was a bad idea, maybe he should go to bed. He knows as soon as the thought enters his mind that it’s not even an option, not with Kurt ordering for them, and another bottle on the way.

 

He gives it a moment, conjures up some strength and restraint and finally looks at Kurt, and yeah, there is that gaze deep and dark, probably very similar to his own. He knows what Kurt means, he knows exactly, the atmosphere is nice at the moment, almost perfect and he doesn’t want to jeopardize it, but he also doesn’t want to pass up an opportunity to talk to Kurt. 

 

“Do you?”

 

“Honestly? Not really, but I will if you want to?” 

 

Blaine smirks, at least Kurt is being normal. That is something that he can never fault Kurt for, Kurt has always been himself with Blaine, never fake, and no matter how stand off-ish he may come across at least he has always been real.

 

“Not much to say really is there, you don’t have to explain anything to me, I guess there’s always going to be reporters right? Should I get used to it?” 

 

Kurt smiles sadly whist he takes another drink and nods, the thick heady wine burns deliciously down his throat, he brings his glass up to rest against his cheek.  
“Yes, does that bother you?” 

 

Blaine shakes his head. “Will they always ask me questions like that?” 

 

“Probably, until they get used to you and who you are.” 

 

Blaine laughs humorously, he can’t help it. “God I don’t even know who that is anymore, why the fuck do they care?” The words rush out deep and gritty, too late to swallow them back down, “God, I’m sorry that was so out of line.”

 

“No it wasn’t, not at all, your perfectly fine speaking your mind, I like it.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Well I like that you can be honest with me, I like how, I think that you trust me, I like how you just know how to be, you know, you’re just you.” Kurt’s eyes are shining right now and Blaine cannot look away as the pink tip of his tongue peeks out to wipe over his reddened wet lips. 

 

Blaine drains his glass and leans down to retrieve the bottle, god they need to eat, it would be in both of their best interests if they eat, like right now. A chicken Caesar salad Six hours ago is not going to suffice against the temptation of Merlot filled stomachs and minds. Kurt empties his glass and shuffles forward on the padded bench to allow Blaine to fill his glass for him again.   
Blaine scoots forward also and when both glasses are filled to the top, even though they normally have much better wine drinking etiquette, he messily places the bottle back down to the tiled floor but neither men move back to their original positions.

 

They study each other in a way that should be too much, it should be too intimate, but it just doesn’t feel that way, Kurt breaks the momentary silence. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“For what? God Kurt you don’t need to apologise, at all, it’s cool.”

 

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t have willingly wanted anybody to ask you those questions, I recognized her from other events over the years, she’s always been so nice and-and I guess that this game is just so fickle huh, we have to make our living, she has to make hers. She’s not going to apologise to you so I should.”

 

“Well don’t-but thank you, and uh no, not just anybody, not in that way, like she did-”

 

“Can I?”

 

Of course, Blaine thinks, Kurt can ask him anything and what’s worrying is that Blaine knows that he will tell him anything in return. He smiles, that well known half a quirk of his lip against the edge of his glass and watches how Kurt takes a breath, a soft gasp rasped and blown back out against the hollow glass, it sounds gorgeous.

 

“I-I wouldn’t say that I was on my way to stardom or anything like that, I was never at a point where I was interviewed or recognised by paparazzi, like you, like um that. I had a following sure, there were regulars at the places I performed at who would cheer and call out, request their favourites, then I started booking events and-and it was wonderful, I got by doing something that I loved,” 

 

He pauses to take a drink and to peek up at Kurt, who’s eyes are now a deep green, reflecting off of the stream of twinkling lights outside and the deep red liquid from his glass. God those eyes were going to kill Blaine tonight, he was sure of it.

 

The room is darkening by the minute and they really should flick on a lamp or something, but that would mean getting up, that would mean moving away from the close positions that they had found themselves in and Blaine is not willing to do that.

 

“Why did you stop Blaine, why did you stop what you love?”

 

“I didn’t choose to, I didn’t stop completely, not at first, I guess I just lost my way.” Kurt contemplates this, his lips pursed in thought, he listens intently to everything that Blaine is saying, he seems to think about his responses deeply.

 

“Are you happy?” Blaine was not expecting that and yet he answers like he has no filter.

 

“I wasn’t.” But Blaine knows that he wasn’t all entirely happy before the singing had stopped, that doesn’t have to be spoken allowed though, not yet.

 

“Until?”

 

The answer that Blaine wants to say, the answer that is waiting to come out, that is sitting at the back of Blaine’s throat just waiting to be propelled forward by his hasty tongue, is so simple, yet so loaded, and it’s so true that it’s confusing and thrilling in both good and bad ways. 

 

Kurt is just there, his face open and beautiful looking like its coming closer and closer even though he’s probably not moving at all, those eyes and those lips are just there, and Blaine could just tell him, now, he could- 

 

*Knock Knock*-“Room service.” 

 

*

 

They eat on the floor of the living area, opened up cartons of food that smells and tastes too good to be true are scattered all over the coffee table with spoons and forks dug in to them. The side lamps have been switched on, lighting the room enough to see what they’re eating but dim enough to keep a respective ambience.

 

They are both seated at opposite sides, Blaine resting against one couch and Kurt against an arm chair, the second bottle of wine is situated between them and already close to half empty. Kurt had plugged his iPod into the dock and the music is filtering into the room nicely as they eat and bicker over who gets the last of the loaded potato skins.   
When Kurt has ate his last mouthful he can possibly manage before bursting he lifts himself up onto the chair behind him and tucks his knees and legs under neatly, whilst cradling his wine glass.

 

Blaine laughs lightly as he polishes off the last of the southern fried chicken strips, rubbing his fingers clean and then does the same, stretching himself out on the couch behind, eyes closed.   
Now with a pleasantly full belly Blaine can feel the heady wine clouding his head deliciously, the rich scent filling his senses, he feels boneless and relaxed and he could probably fall asleep any second, if it wasn’t for the fact that Kurt is just right there.

 

He blinks an eye open to find Kurt sprawled over the decent sized armchair like some sort of Greek god, all arms and legs spilling over the sides with his head resting back exposing his long thick neck, his wine glass balanced precariously somewhere beside him. His eyes are closed too and he looks completely at peace, his foot is tapping along to the beat of the new song that’s started playing and he’s humming very quietly along with the melody. Blaine is starting to realise that he only ever sees Kurt so relaxed, something close to happy when he is in the presence of nobody else, just him, just the two of them.

 

Blaine smiles to himself and wriggles onto his side so that he can get a better view of Kurt’s face, if Kurt was to turn his head then they could be looking at each other eye for eye. 

 

“I-I’m sorry about before, about the um swearing and stuff.”

 

“Don’t apologise Blaine, not for that.” Blaine can hear the smile in Kurt’s voice, and the upturn to the corner of his lips, his voice is rasped and deep and Blaine wants to keep him talking. It’s almost like Kurt heard his thoughts. “We all need ways to blow off steam, to let it all out, I-I guess I maybe should have warned you or something, I haven’t been anywhere so publically for a while and I didn’t think they would care I was there.” 

 

“Why? Why did you stop going to those events, was it for that reason?” Kurt sits up and takes a long drink from his glass, he leans forward and picks up the wine bottle from the table and fills his glass and when he’s done he just kind of sits there for a couple of seconds just holding the bottle, looking off into space. Blaine knows that he’s thinking about something, he’s doing that thing when he’s deciding what to do or not to do in his head.

 

Suddenly Kurt stands and steps around the coffee table over to the couch, glass and bottle still in hands. Blaine’s eyes widen a little and he struggles to sit up against the cushions on the arm of the chair when Kurt holds the bottle out to him, Blaine lifts his glass to meet him half way letting him pour another drink, god two bottles, they’ve done well, god knows what they’re trying to achieve.   
Blaine gives a quiet thanks when Kurt discards the empty bottle on the table, and he’s about to lie back but then Kurt sits, right there, by his feet at the end of the couch.

 

Blaine’s bare toes are curled against the denim of Kurt’s tight thighs and Kurt doesn’t seem to care, he only leans back into the cushions further, resting his glass against stomach and closing his eyes.

 

“Honestly? I guess I got a little bored, got a little lonely I suppose,” Oh, Kurt is answering Blaine’s question, he lies back down slightly but props himself up on a cushion, the look of Kurt’s side profile is too good to miss right now, not with the way they’re sat so close, so comfortable, he keeps quiet hoping that Kurt will carry on. 

 

“These things are all so generic, they’re great when you’re first starting off, it’s all new and exciting and people just want you, but you soon discover that they don’t want you for you, they want you for what you have, for what you may be able to offer them.”

 

Blaine sits back up straight, pulling his knees up close to his chest, his feet now tucked just under Kurt’s thighs, Kurt turns his head and their eyes meet with a flash, glazed blue with deep hazel. Kurt doesn’t look sad, he doesn’t even sound it, it’s almost like he’s told this story a thousand times, he’s resigned now, but Blaine knows that Kurt probably hasn’t ever said this allowed before, not to just anyone. 

 

“Kurt-”

 

“You are the first person, who I thought, who I knew, wasn’t like that, you’re not like them, you don’t take anything from me, I guess you didn’t even have an opinion on me at first, because you didn’t know me. With you here in my world, in my own little bubble, I don’t, I don’t feel,” 

 

Lonely. Blaine knows that he wants to say lonely, but his pride won’t let him.   
Blaine doesn’t know what to say, he’s flabbergasted to be honest, he raises his glass to his lips just for something to do, and the liquid feels stronger this time, it trickles down his throat and settles warm in his chest and he feels light headed with it. 

 

“I wanted to bring you here this weekend, because I knew I could rely on you, to keep me steady, to keep me grounded almost, I feel like I could be the person who I was, who I used to be, when you talk to me, when you’re with me.”

 

“What person was that?”

 

“A nicer person, a better person.” 

 

Blaine feels like he’s been slammed in the chest for some reason, he’s struggling for breath and for words and most importantly struggling to stop himself from climbing onto Kurt’s lap and warp his arms around him. Kurt takes a mouthful of wine and Blaine places a tentative hand on his arm, he tries again.

 

“Kurt-”

 

“Don’t Blaine, it’s fine, I’m fine, I didn’t tell you so that you could make me feel better, I don’t need that, I just had to tell you I guess, I-I wanted to.” 

 

Blaine closes his mouth but keeps his hand warm and firm curled around Kurt’s arm, Kurt shifts very slightly and Blaine can feel the ripple of the muscle underneath his fingers, it’s a tantalizing feeling. 

 

“So I guess I need to know that you’re ok with this, with events and people like that, I can’t say that you’re never going to be approached like that again, the questions may get better, they may get worse, probably the latter, but you don’t have to answer, not at all, it’s nobody business and only you know the truth, only you know what really matters to you, it’s easier said than done but in this business you learn quickly, you just have haul all of that stuff out of your mind and your heart like white noise.”

 

Kurt takes another drink until the glass is empty and then leans forward to put it down, when he pulls back again he moves his body a half turn in Blaine’s direction and pulls a knee up, an arm draped over the back of the couch and a hand resting on his bent knee. Like this their bodies are so close, almost leaning into each other and Kurt’s face, his nose and cheeks bones look so defined, so beautiful in this light, Blaine literally has to pull the words up from his throat. He empties his glass, licks his lips and leaves the glass on the chair somewhere behind him.

 

“I can do that Kurt, of course, I’m ok with it, I’ll go with you anywhere, it’s-it’s my job right,” It almost doesn’t feel right, saying those words, yet they are the truth, it is Blaine job to be there for Kurt and do as he says and he asks. 

 

“Um, yes, it’s, it’s your job,” Kurt clears his throat and there’s that voice again, so soft and defeated. Blaine just wants to comfort him even though Kurt has made it clear he does not want nor does he need comfort. Blaine just wants to know, wants to know what has made Kurt this way.   
It’s then when he realizes that his palm is still closed around Kurt’s arm, he uncurls his fingers and pulls back only to be caught by Kurt’s hand, his long fingers curled around Blaine’s wrist, stopping him in mid-air.

 

“It’s my job to keep you safe though, I hope you trust that I wont let them get to you, it’s only words ok, it’s just words, trust me.”

 

Words. Blaine thinks, if only he can believe that, if only he and Kurt were actually thinking about the same thing right now, maybe they are, but there is one thing that he is absolutely sure of.

 

“I do trust you Kurt, I do, you know that, and I-I think that we can beat those assholes together-” Kurt laughs and Blaine beams at the noise, he loves the way he can make Kurt laugh. Blaine knows that Kurt likes the way Blaine can lighten the mood, he can soften the atmosphere and Blaine wants to preen.

 

“This is why I don’t have a management team, I was just waiting for you to come along and knock everything into place.” 

 

“I think a promotion is in order,” Kurt laughs again and shoves at Blaine’s chest lightly.

 

“You’re not even through your probation yet,” Well shit. Blaine had never thought about that, it’s been Four and half months and it feels like a hell of a lot longer, Blaine had stopped worrying about the wrongs and rights, he seemed to have just got it, he and Kurt were working well and he never thought about his probationary period.

 

Kurt has started speaking again and Blaine’s zones back in.

 

“A manager is something I never thought about, honestly, I don’t want anybody telling me what to do or where to be, I don’t need that, I can handle myself perfectly fine, I have done for so long, and now, and now I have you, um an assistant, I don’t need anybody else.”

 

Yes you have me. Blaine thinks, you’ve had me from the start and you can have me for as long as you like. 

 

The night sky outside of the window is like a navy blanket draped over the city and the dotted lights all around it, the music is still playing softly around them and Blaine doesn’t have to look at the time to know its getting late. They have another day at the convention tomorrow and then an evening flight back to New York, Blaine knows they should get some rest, and sleep off the wine, they have to be up early to pack and check out but he cannot look away from Kurt right now, he does not want to move an inch from the huddle they have found themselves in.   
The word unprofessional doesn’t even enter Blaine’s mind right now. If he doesn’t say what he wants to say now, he may not get another chance anytime soon. 

 

“Um, Kurt?”

 

“Hmm?” Kurt’s chin is balanced on his knee and his arms are now wrapped around his leg, his fingers are just brushing Blaine’s leg where they’re rested.

 

“I-I need you to know, I don’t even know if I should be telling you this, but you should know that, that I don’t know who you were before or what shit went down, but you’re-you are such a wonderful person now, you must believe that, and I don’t care what you have or don’t have, or what you think others think of you, I-I want you for you.” 

 

He snaps his jaw shut before he can say anything more, breathing heavily through his nose. Kurt needed to know, he can take those words in whichever way he likes, but he needs to know that Blaine respects and likes him just the way that he is, he deserves to hear it, people should be told when they have made such an impact on somebody else. 

 

Blaine dares to look at Kurt and instantly regrets it, his lips are slightly stained a dark purple and parted, so full and rounded and his eyes are clear and bright. His strong shoulders are rising and falling softly with each breath and his brow is a little furrowed, like he can’t comprehend what Blaine has just said. Blaine starts to untangle himself and tries to rise, it’s definitely time to call it a night now.

 

“B-Blaine, you should know that everybody loses their way someway or another, y-you’re not alone, in that, you’ll find it again, somehow, you will.”

 

I have, Blaine wants to say, I already have. Instead he says, “I’m happy now Kurt, for now I’m happy and I can work with that, and I hope that you can find happiness in yourself some day too.” 

 

Drawing up every ounce of courage he has, alcohol inflicted or not, or maybe it is just a huge case of the ‘holy shit what are you doing?’ Blaine leans forward over his knees and as quickly and softly as he can muster he places a fleeting chaste kiss, to the side of Kurt’s cheek, just on the striking edge of bone, before his hair line. Blaine closes his eyes as the tip of his nose ruffles into Kurt’s soft sweet smelling hair for not more than a second and then instantly pulls back. 

 

Before Blaine can move off of the couch and make a hasty retreat to his room with his tail between his legs, Kurt turns his face as quick as lightening and their cheeks are now pressed against each other. Blaine’s stubble has grown in from his shave the night before, he didn’t feel the need to shave before the convention this morning and the feel of it against the light scratch of Kurt’s is the most delicious feeling. 

 

Warm air is blown around the shell of Blaine’s ear and he tries his damndest not to shiver at the sensation, Holy Hell, what is happening.

 

“Thank you Blaine, just…thanks.” The lightest, most gentle press of lips, so much that its barely there, is brushed in passing against Blaine’s hairline, it’s bone tingling feeling, and then its gone, Kurt is gone. Blaine just registers the sound of a door closing as he opens his eyes to the sight of the dented couch cushion where Kurt had just been.

 

Good God.

 

*

 

On Monday Morning Blaine enters his office earlier than usual, so early that Kurt isn’t even around yet, and honestly he’s a little glad of that. He’s dressed in beige slacks and a white shirt with a chocolate coloured bowtie and pair of suspenders, his usual work wear, just because he feels like crap it doesn’t mean he has to look it.   
He’s tired and knows that it shows in the slight puffiness under his eyes, but he can’t sleep, he’s tried for the past Eight hours and the best he got was just under Five, plus around the same amount from the night before that. He hasn’t even put his usual effort into styling his hair and knows that shaving was a half assed attempt this morning. 

 

The previous day could only be described as torture, in Blaine’s opinion anyway. He woke up too hot and earlier than he had set his alarm for, with a pressing need from his bladder and a head that felt like he’d had a round with Mike Tyson. He all but rolled into the bathroom, took a shower and traipsed back to his hotel bed wrapped in a fluffy towel and fell back down on to the mattress messily, not caring that he was still dripping with water. He tried to doze on and off for the next hour but had no such luck, so he slowly got himself dressed in a pair of Capri pants and a plain button down and found some brightly patterned suspenders for good measure. He packed his bags, cleared up his mess and took some pills for his head. He doesn’t even understand why he felt so bad, he’s drank a hell of lot more in the past and woken in much better states.   
Blaine knows that it’s not so much the alcohol itself, but what the alcohol had inflicted. It’s the thoughts and the memories. Jesus.

 

He’d pretty much forced himself out of his room and out into the kitchen come dining area of the penthouse suite, where he’d found Kurt sitting quietly at the table, with a newspaper pressed under his nose and a spread full of food around him.   
Blaine reluctantly and after an internal battle with himself, joined him, seating himself at the opposite end of the table and instantly reached for the coffee jug. 

 

Kurt looked fine, more than fine, composed and striking in a blue checked shirt and black skinny jeans, and Blaine just wanted to bang his head against the table. Kurt’s eyes never lifted, not once, but Blaine could just make out the light blue and hint of green flecks under his reading lenses. When Kurt finally spoke, quiet and even, Blaine could just make out the slight hint of dry humour and didn’t know whether to be surprised or not.

 

“Good Morning.”

 

“Oh uh, m-mornin.” Good one Blaine.

 

And that had been that, the level of communication that had been set between them. Blaine felt sick, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything let alone eat. He drank his cup and excused himself from the table, waiting for Kurt to finish up, he felt sure that he could feel Kurt’s eyes on him as he walked away but like hell would he turn around to check.

 

They packed up and vacated the suite, checked out at the desk and loaded their luggage into the back of the car ready to go to the airport later that day, and then they spent the best part of the next Five hours back at the convention. 

 

They wandered in and out of panels and conference rooms, Blaine always a step behind Kurt, the sun was out in full force therefore deeming shades an acceptable accessory both indoors and out. They watched a mini catwalk out in the main exhibition tent and browsed the merchandise stands, Kurt had some photos taken and spoke with some exhibitors whilst Blaine hung back. He wasn’t avoiding or ignoring Kurt at all, and nor vice versa, honestly Blaine just simply wasn’t giving any chance for a real conversation, he kept himself to himself and Kurt seemed happy enough with that. Maybe Blaine was beating himself up too much, maybe he was over thinking. 

 

There weren’t a lot of press around, well none who were so bold to approach and interfere with their day, but Kurt steered clear of those areas where they would be lurking. Kurt had seemed strangely relaxed the whole day, strolling around, buying snacks and refreshments and just handing them to Blaine soundlessly, like he knew what he needed, and like the lost puppy Blaine was he just accepted it all, with rough mumbles and mutters of gratitude.

 

The drive to the airport could have been worse he supposed, Blaine had actually shamefully drifted on and off a little whilst staring out of the window to the sounds of Kurt tapping away on his phone. The airplane journey was much the same, only speaking after take off when Kurt had handed him a bag of mixed nuts knowing that Blaine would take out the ones that he didn’t like. 

 

By the time Sam had collected them from the Airport when they landed and brought them back to the condo it was late, and Blaine thinks that he and Kurt had probably only said about Six full sentences to each other over the whole of the day, and he hated it. As Blaine had suspected, once back inside and luggage brought up from the car, Kurt had disappeared somewhere into the depths of the condo and was never seen again. Santana had been staying over to look after Jester who were both nowhere to be seen and Blaine kind of wished that she were around to maybe lighten things a little. 

 

Now as Blaine tugs the blinds open over his office windows, allowing the morning sun to spill through the glass panes and over his skin, warming him and awakening his tired body, he notices a small white envelope lying on his desk. He rounds the desk and approaches, slowly lowering himself into his chair and immediately feels his heart thud hard and twice as fast in his chest. 

 

The envelope is thick to the touch, a rich ivory and clearly not from any ordinary stationary kit, his name is scribbled over the middle in what is most definitely Kurt’s curvaceous handwriting in bold black ink. Blaine traces the word gently with a trembling finger and feels his throat dry up.   
What could this be, why is Kurt writing him a letter, what is it that Kurt couldn’t tell him, yesterday or last night or later today. It really could only mean one thing. 

 

As much as Blaine doesn’t want to see, he doesn’t want to read the words, he just cannot think about emptying his room upstairs, loading Jes into his carry box and going back to whatever that was he called a life before, he doesn’t fumble around in his desk drawer for the plush letter opener he just tears straight into the envelope and pulls the folded slip of paper out. 

 

He opens it up in his shaking palms and gives himself a little silent pep talk before he allows his eyes to drop to the first line. Just get it over and done with, you crossed the line and now you know the consequences, there is nobody to blame but yourself, just read it and get of here.

 

But Kurt told him Thank You, Kurt told him that he wasn’t alone. Kurt ordered the second bottle of wine.  
Blaine takes a deep breath. The letter is no different to the envelope, a rich texture covered in neatly handwritten words, plucked from Kurt’s own head and heart and spilled from his fingers. Personal and real. 

 

Mr Anderson, 

 

Blaine , I hope that you can agree that the past almost Five months have passed rather quickly, and in that time our working relationship has grown strong and efficient. You have been able to show nothing but the utmost of professionalism and respect for my company and myself.   
I thank you for that, deeply and sincerely, though I must state that the dynamic has most certainly changed somewhat.

 

And so, I believe that it is in the best interests of you and I and the business, that we end your working Six Month probationary period as of here and now. 

 

Blaine swallows thickly once and then twice, his temples are pounding and he feels sweat gathering across the nape of his neck, he reads on, he must, there is nothing else to do.

 

Therefore I would like to offer you a full time contracted Position , with me and my company, within the condo and office space, if you shall kindly accept.

 

I look forward to receiving your response in good time.

 

Until Further Notice

 

Kurt.

 

The paper slips from Blaine’s hands as he stands from the desk, the chair rolling backwards behind him and hitting the wall with a dull thud, he releases a shuddering breath that he didn’t realise he was even holding.   
Some of the wording he cannot quite grasp, but right now that doesn’t matter. The most important thing is Kurt wants him to stay. 

 

Kurt wants him to stay.

 

Blaine exhales with a soft whoosh of breath and a sigh which sounds like something between content and elated. He begins to giggle, a deep rumble in his chest which rises high and squeaky as he pushes a hand up and over his forehead, and through his hair. He has no idea what has just happened, but he is not going to try and work it out. 

 

Kurt wants him.

 

“Is that a yes?” 

 

He’s startled into an adorable little jump on the spot, and his eyes dart upwards to the open doorway where Kurt is leaning against the jamb, silently like some sort of impeccable ninja. He’s wearing a sharp dark fitted suit, with his strapping arms folded over his chest and thighs and ankles crossed over each over. He’s also wearing a smile, wide and breathtaking that Blaine doesn’t think he has a name for yet, it’s spread over those pink lips and those eyes are like a twinkling galaxy.   
He looks so dangerously handsome, staring back at Blaine right now, a beautiful mystery, and Blaine can’t stop his feet when they carry him forward in small careful steps around to the front of his desk with a big grin that he just can’t control either. 

 

“Do you need that in writing, or?” 

 

The laugh by way of response that Blaine receives, is more than enough reassurance that he needs, to know that he doesn’t and shouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore, not now.   
Of all of the things Blaine has chosen to do and say in his lifetime, he is pretty damn sure that this, this job, Kurt, and everything to do with him, may actually be the best decision that he has made in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- : ) What we thinking so far hmm?   
> Thank you all so much for your reviews and hits and everything, some of the guest reviews I can’t reply to but I wish I could.  
> Updates will be mostly weekends like I said, so please try and be patient but I will try and get the next one out ASAP. :)  
> Thanks again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Mentions of Finn.
> 
> Please accept this slightly longer than normal chapter as an apology for the lateness of the update ;) enjoy and thank you.

Blaine thinks that he should be feeling something a little more towards emotional, something a little weary and unsure. He should be nervous at the fact that his little old apartment back in Queens is now not his little old apartment. He thinks that he should be sad that the place he worked hard for and made his own, the place where he found his beloved little cat and allowed him to call it home too, is now somebody else’s.   
He thinks that he should be feeling a little worried that his furniture has been taken out of storage and donated to a charity store, although he does feel rather proud at that last part. He thinks that he should regret it in some way or how, that it’s too soon to trust and back away from his old life and move on. 

 

But he doesn’t. He just can’t.

 

Blaine still can’t understand why he had felt so raw and open and honest and just too good with Kurt during the weekend of the fashion event, that night. He doesn’t get why that plush penthouse suite they had shared was so different from living here with Kurt, in the luring depths of the condo, and not just because of the size difference of the two places, they really are only doors apart, they are alone here, except for an occasional crazy house keeper and a weird cat with human traits and thoughts. He’s doesn’t get why he can be himself with Kurt honest and trusting, and how Kurt just draws it out of him.

 

They’ve never talked about it, the whole thing, and Blaine doesn’t know if they ever will, or maybe even need to, they’ve moved on from whatever that was and not in a bad way. Though Blaine does not forget what words were spoken, he does not forget the way it felt to hear Kurt speak to him in that way, so close, or the colour of his eyes when he looked back at him while he listened, deep in thought. Blaine can still feel the warm tickle of Kurt’s breath against the sensitive skin around his ear and neck and face. 

 

He doesn’t know exactly why Kurt had decided to end his trial working period earlier than planned, again its something that he isn’t hopeful he’ll ever find out about, he doesn’t need to, he’s just happy that he’s came this far, they have come this far, and yet still not far enough. 

 

Their relationship, working or not, is still as maintained and professional as before, if not more so. Kurt relies on Blaine for his assistance and support in a lot of things. Whether it’s what day and time is best to reschedule a conference call with an overseas trader, or what to feed the office plants to stop them from dying because Santana could give a rat’s ass. Blaine calls Kurt out on some minor gnawing details in their every day jobs and knows that Kurt is thankful for it. He makes up for it when he brings Kurt the double choc chip cookies with his afternoon mocha, and Kurt knows that he’s in the dog house when he only gets oatmeal instead. Kurt likes to tease Blaine for the way he holds his pen when he writes and his tongue pokes out at the tip in concentration, but Blaine secretly loves the way it feels to have Kurt’s eyes on him, regardless.

 

They mess around like old buddies and bicker like an old married couple. They flirt- though ask and they’ll deny it- like young lovers on a blind date, fun and mischievous and exciting, and it’s so normal like a ritual, it’s perfect, its just them now, their custom. Even during board meetings, brunch dates and appointments, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by familiar faces. Sam has passed knowing looks and smirks through his rear view more times than anybody cares at this point and Santana’s innuendos and running commentary is off the scale, although she is yet to unleash it fully while both men are present at the same time.   
That being said, it never ventures further than a play on of words, or a glance that lasts a second too long followed by a wink or a flash of teeth, or a touch that didn’t necessarily need to happen but stays warm and soft and inviting regardless. It never strays further than it needs to, just flirts dangerously along the invisible, fine, fine line between maybe a little wrong and just too right. 

 

And Kurt is still his same old self, mysterious and brooding most of the time and so open and raw and gorgeously refreshing when he wants to be, and Blaine likes it, he prefers it that way. He’s glad that there are still those limits and those boundaries and the little voice in his head that still tells him ‘remember he’s your boss’, but that doesn’t mean that Blaine doesn’t like to try, he can still play, even though he’s fully aware of the implications and that’s him who may suffer in the long run, his life, feelings, his heart.   
Honestly Blaine doesn’t know how much longer he can hold back, without way over stepping things. God he would never force himself upon Kurt. Though he may not seem like it, he does still truly appreciate this job and this chance, he works hard and knows that he deserves it and he would never intentionally put himself or his career on the line. He knows that he got lucky, he knows that he missed a harsh penalty with his last red wine soaked fuckup.

 

But strangely all of that doesn’t deter him, this job seems different to anything else he’s ever took on. This job has Kurt, and Kurt is different to anybody else he has ever met. He knows that Kurt is not unappreciative of his behaviour, he knows that his subtle advances do not go unmissed, they are not unwelcomed. Blaine will know himself when he’s heading way off course with Kurt, when Kurt no longer appreciates it, he should be able to just know that, and doesn’t think It will be anytime soon, or if at all, he hopes.

 

What Blaine does definitely know is that since signing his home over and also the new piece of paper that Kurt had given to him almost three months ago, he has felt different, lighter, happy and all too easy, he just can’t place these feelings, he can’t find the reasons behind them. 

 

What he does find one day, is a keyboard set up in the corner of the study beside the old sewing station which had been pushed to one side to make room. There’s a guitar beside it propped up on a stand and its then that Blaine notices some of the bookshelves have been reshuffled and utilized properly.   
In fact, they are his instruments, he recognises the chip in the dark varnished wooden neck of the guitar from when he was drunk and dropped it that time in College. And the red ‘Keep calm and make music’ sticker he had slapped onto his keyboard as a joke, another time after a gig, when he was also drunk and couldn’t peel it back off. 

 

The instruments had been taken from his storage closet upstairs, brought down here, and set up, without words, without his permission. Maybe Santana wants lessons or something, it’s a sly and not so subtle way of going about it, he thinks, but that’s just her all over. He hadn’t given them a second thought, nor glance or touch since finding them a new home, which is something that he never thought would happen. 

 

Blaine had only came in to the study to look for a dictionary, yes there is Google, and all hail it, there’s Wikipedia and all hail that too, but sometimes there’s nothing better than a good old fashioned heavy book in your hands, and the rich scent of paper and print in your nose.   
Blaine had wanted something fancy to use in a very selectively worded email he was busy drafting to a particular firm who just wouldn’t quit, and had wanted to search for the word and pluck it right from the pages himself.

 

Blaine finds himself stepping closer, further into the corner of the room, a hand stretching out and a finger idly brushing the black plastic of the cover of the keyboard as he walks around to the stool set up in front of the black and white keys.

 

He’s sitting before he realises it and his fingers are pressing down, already forming the memorized shapes, gliding from one place to the next until a perfect melody is filling the room, unrehearsed and unplanned and hauntingly beautiful. A couple of chords turn into a tune, and after a few songs later, he’s sitting with his fingers curled around the neck of the guitar and his other hand plucking at the strings. He hums rhythmically, deep and relaxed in his chest, eyes fluttering open and closed, feet tapping at the floor, that all sense of time and being slips away from him. 

 

He’s so lost, so far gone, wrapped up in his old musical mind that he opens his mouth, his Adams apple bobs and his throat works to lubricate itself, he closes his eyes and draws in a breath as his chest expands and the words sit at the tip of his tongue, ready to flow, ready to be become lyrics when-

 

“I’m glad you found these, finally-” Blaine almost drops the guitar in his hands upon seeing Kurt standing in the doorway, the man is making a habit of this lately and so Blaine should not be surprised. It’s the words that stun Blaine the most. 

 

Blaine stands and fumbles to place the guitar back in its stand, “Uh I, sorry I just, Santana must have-”

 

“You were intended to find them, and it’s me you can thank, or blame, depends on how you’re feeling about it.” Kurt’s eyes are twinkling mischievously and with a smirk to match, Blaine is slightly dumbfounded. 

 

“Y-you, you put them here?” 

 

“Well Santana found them of course, she told me about them a while ago actually, when she was pretending to work, and I always figured that you would bring them out one day eventually, or we’d hear you playing up in your room, but it never happened, and-and then in the penthouse when-” He pauses and Blaine holds his breath, his eyes widening almost comically.

 

“When we, you said that-I guess that we all need help sometimes at a little redirection huh? And I, I thought that you may have had forgotten about them, tucked away growing cobwebs, so I thought I-I’d help-”

 

“You did this for me? For me to-to play?” 

 

“Well…yes…not exactly during hours when I’m paying you but…” Kurt’s lips lift and Blaine can only stare at him a little breathlessly, “It’s like I said Blaine, everyone loses their way…” He trails off, hoping that Blaine will understand.

 

Blaine does, he nods. “I…Thank you Kurt, I um, I don’t know what to s-”

 

“Don’t mention it-”

 

“But I am happy Kurt, I am, I-I meant it, what I said about-”

 

“I know Blaine.” Their eyes catch in the silence between them, Kurt standing in the doorway and Blaine shifting restlessly on the spot a few feet away, and those few seconds feel weirdly wonderful, like a wall has been knocked down, a bridge has been crossed of some kind.

 

Kurt clears his throat and glances down at his shoes, he brushes a knuckle down the polished edge of the door jamb and fidgets with his Abercrombie and Fitch double breasted light gray cardigan. The December weather is cold and harsh and along with the leaves falling from the trees, even in the warmth of the condo, with central heating and real burning stoked fires in the living room, the office attire has gloriously also adapted seasonally. 

 

Kurt has been sporting thick knitted, sheepskin cardigans and sweaters in rich dark reds and browns which set off his strong shoulders and skin tone like a dream. Blaine has been getting through sweater vests, plaid blazers and festive patterned ties like there’s no tomorrow, and that’s not to mention the overcoats and boots and scarves, oh the scarves.   
Just last week Blaine had accompanied Kurt to a winter benefit out in the city, and the tuxes they had been presented with had been out of this world, something Blaine remembers seeing in old glamorous movies and nothing he ever thought he’d have the privilege to own or at least wear.   
Sharp fitting, slender suits with silver swirled vests, bow ties dotted with tiny white snowflakes, and silver sprayed flowers peeking out of breast pockets, both matching with hint of differences that set them apart.   
And afterwards when the ball had continued into the early hours of the next morning, Kurt had decided he’d had enough and had lead Blaine on an impromptu stroll around the frost bitten grass and paths of Central Park, wearing heavy coats in slate gray and midnight blue, thick ivory scarves draped around their upturned collars and soft leather gloves snug around their fingers and hands. 

 

Blaine has become accustomed to these ‘events’ now, since his first slightly disastrous experience, there have been many more of a similar kind, small and big, important and not so much, sometimes Kurt’s presence as merely as an accessory and some when he has been the key asset. No matter what the reason for being there, Kurt always remains calm and collected, and never far from Blaine’s side, like an anchor, like Blaine can make all the outside world go away, just by being there.   
Blaine doesn’t think he’ll ever get completely used to the looks and unspoken judgments hidden behind cold sets of eyes of faces he doesn’t know, but he’s used to dealing with them now. It’s not like when he received tweets and emails and slips of paper from back in the day, those were people who enjoyed him and his music not people who enjoyed picking him apart, though he knows that it was always an possibility should he have ventured further into that world.   
Blaine knows how to square his shoulders and straighten his suit, to turn up his megawatt smile and fix his honeyed gaze, he knows how to quip back and when to just remain silent and act disinterested. He’s knows when Kurt is feeling playful and will sometimes allow his hand to linger around the vicinity of his lower back just to give them something to sniff at. 

 

Kurt wraps his knuckles against the study wall, he’s stalling, Blaine thinks, he doesn’t want to go back to work yet, he wants to stay and talk, he wants to stay with Blaine. Blaine glances back at the instruments, he doesn’t think he can perform for Kurt, just for him, not yet, he doesn’t even know what to make of this whole thing, his mind is still whirring with the thought, and his heart. 

 

Blaine steps over to the old worn leather loveseat in the centre of the room and leans against the back of it, hands running over the edge. He looks over at the sewing machine, old and forgotten and he wonders. He decides to do what he does best, to draw something new out of Kurt. 

 

“Kurt what made you lose your way?” Ok maybe Blaine could have worded that a bit better, and he isn’t exactly sure how Kurt will interpret it. The question obviously catches Kurt off guard, his hand stills and he looks up, jaw tightening. Blaine waits patiently, he knows that this can only go one of two ways, Kurt answering him or Kurt telling him to get back to work and disappearing through the door, which he can deal with.

 

After a few moments Kurt slowly steps forward towards Blaine, he extends a hand towards him and Blaine feels his heart beat double time not exactly sure what is happening until Kurt presses his hand firmly into Blaine’s chest, pushing him back with little playful jerky movements, slightly off kilter on the back of the couch. Blaine laughs under his breath as he slides down onto the seat cushions and Kurt rounds the couch with a small smile taking a seat beside him and resting an ankle over his knee.

 

Blaine thrills internally and twists his body so that he can look at Kurt, a leg tucked underneath himself, the little couch where they are situated is certainly not a big piece of furniture designed for two grown men, their knees brush and if Blaine shuffled just a little further forward they would be pressed up together, side to side. Blaine is so comfortable that he has to stop himself from kicking off his shoes, tucking his knees up completely and throwing an arm around the back of the couch, around Kurt.

 

Kurt seems to find a book up on one of the bookshelves interesting, his gaze pinned to the old faded spine of the cover, his hands are resting over his legs, he exhales a long sigh before starting to speak, still not looking at Blaine.

 

“When I was in high school, I didn’t have anybody to look out for me, I didn’t need anyone, I guess I didn’t want anyone either, at least that’s what I told myself, but the point is that I was alone, I had people around me, like Sam and San when she got over herself, but I still felt alone but I got by, I was bullied… bad, nobody could really be there for me, not at first, not in a way that mattered, my dad was sick for a while and I couldn’t tell him and I just had to…deal you know-” 

 

Blaine feels his throat tighten, his fingers flicker to life from the fist he has them balled into at his side and he aches to take Kurt’s hand, but knows that he can’t, that Kurt won’t like it, not yet. This is always a problem for Blaine, when he learns something new about the wonderfully complex man beside him, Blaine is never quite prepared for the heart ache that pours from Kurt, and it hurts him to hear and to see it. Blaine knows how it feels, and he hates knowing that somebody like Kurt has felt the same as him, low and lost and un-liked, he hates it yet, also finds a strange comfort within it, a connection almost. 

 

“My dad met this lady, Carole-obviously,” Their eyes finally meet, and Blaine offers a small smile and nod of understanding, “She had a son who went to my school, we had Glee club together, Finn, and honestly we didn’t exactly see eye to eye at first but it was cool, he was a great guy at heart, my dad and Carole got married and eventually Finn and I became like real brothers, and he was the closest thing I had to anybody caring for me, aside from my dad of course.” Kurt paused again, eyes flicking around the room, Blaine became fixated on the bob of his Adams apple as he prepared himself to speak again.

 

“Finn, um, he died the year we graduated from school- uh accident,” Kurt swallows and looks back over at Blaine, who felt frozen in place, skin tingling and tight, eyes almost glazing over. Kurt actually offers him a small but sad smile and Blaine can do nothing but watch him silently, his face moulding with emotion, “It was when I was preparing my range, Finn would model for me, he worked for my dad too and he was like my biggest fan,” Kurt laughs obviously thinking back and Blaine almost laughs with him.

 

“I’m so sorry Kurt, I’m sorry that you lost somebody so important to you-” Kurt lifts a hand tentatively, it hovers in the air between them before he finally seems to settle on something in his head and pats at Blaine’s knee lightly, its his response, his wordless reply and Blaine doesn’t think before he lays his own palm over that hand.

 

“Finn used to think he had to be one of those guys, one of those jocks who made people’s lives a misery, he helped a few of them throw me in a dumpster once,” Kurt smiles wistfully but there’s a hint of humour to his tone, this was ok for him to talk about now, he’d had time to make it ok. “Once he realized he didn’t have to be like that, like them, he became like Superman or something, an unstoppable force, I used to tell them, the bullies, that one day they would all work for me, and with Finn on my side, my keen advocate, I felt anything was possible.” 

 

Blaine felt himself tense, fixated on Kurt’s every word, his eyes clear and wide latching onto Kurt’s gorgeous side profile, the glimmer of his hard eyes and the curve of his lips. He somehow knew what was coming, he suddenly understood Kurt a lot more, the why’s and the how’s of him. There are probably hundreds of people who all work for Kurt now in some shape or form.

 

“When Finn died, the drive and the need to prove them all wrong and myself right just became overwhelming, I was driven by the hope of him watching over me and imagining his goofy grin,” Kurt couldn’t quite meet Blaine’s eyes again, but his hand twitched under the palm that Blaine had forgotten he’d placed there, keeping them entwined together against his knee. 

 

“W-when I um, made my-my first my million, when I shot my first ad and published my first article, I always envisioned him smiling and clapping and scooping me up into one of his bear hugs, but-but then, something shifted, something happened, I was too far-gone, became too wrapped up, too hell bent on keep proving people wrong, college became a distant thought along with what I really wanted and cared about, and power and control and the knowledge of being better and richer and more important than those ass-holes back in that hell hole became my number one priority.” Kurt snapped his lips shut, eyes darting to Blaine’s, full and wide with a sudden panic and an edge of fear, he looked withdrawn and Blaine just couldn’t pull the right words from the scramble up in his brain. Blaine tightened his hold on Kurt’s hand, hoping that it was the right thing to do.

 

“That’s when I lost my way, that’s when I lost myself, my dad just didn’t know what to do with me, he tried to pull me back, but I um, I eventually moved out here, leaving him and Carole, everything behind, and-and that’s that I suppose, for the better, now.” Kurt slowly pulled his hand out from under Blaine’s, he shifted restlessly against the leather cushions before straightening up, rather dismissively, like story time was drawing to a close and Blaine knew that he was starting to lose him. 

 

“B-but Carole, she-”

 

“She told me that she didn’t want to lose another son, that she wouldn’t allow it, and-and she hasn’t, she started taking trips out here and has done so ever since, she makes her presence very much known and I appreciate that, she doesn’t take no for an answer-” Blaine manages to smile, he wants to ask about Kurt’s dad but knows that Kurt would have elaborated should he have wanted to, that side of the story is something that will maybe have to wait. He is curious about something else though.

 

“What about Santana, how did she fit in to all of this?” Kurt smirks, it’s a relief to see the crack in his composed schooled features, he picks at a scuff mark in the leather.

 

“She followed me out here, simple as that really, as stubborn as she is, she wormed her way into my life, my new life and refused to budge, and I’m glad now that she had done so, she told me about Sam struggling to support his family and he was always one of the good kids back in school, he always tried even though it was never enough, but at least he tried still, so in return I helped him in the best way that I could-”

 

“You gave him work-”

 

“I bought his family a house-”

 

“You-you what? Kurt that’s-”

 

“I’m not made of ice and stone completely.” There was no malice to his tone, and it was rather like he was telling himself more than anything. Kurt made to stand but Blaine reached out, and grabbed his arm, maybe a little too roughly and pulled him back into place.

 

“Kurt, I have never once thought that about you, you must know that.”

 

Kurt turns his head and pins Blaine with a deep stare, Blaine can feel the gaze seep through him, into his very core, it both chills and warms him through. He feels like he should squirm under Kurt’s scrutiny, but there is something else there, something almost pleading in Kurt’s wide blue eyes, shining with greens and darkening with greys. 

 

“I know that Blaine, I think that I’ve always known that with you, but it makes me feel better to say it out loud, it makes me feel human, you make me feel human.” Blaine’s fingers dig into the softness of Kurt’s cardigan where his hand is still curled around his arm, he tugs and Kurt’s body eases, flows naturally into the pull. Blaine almost whimpers at the easiness of the contact, as their arms and thighs press together.

 

Blaine too far gone in the moment to care at all lifts his free hand to Kurt’s cheek, tilting slightly and softly, turning them face to face, their noses just an inch and a brush away. Blaine can feel Kurt tense under his touch, just a fraction, not uncomfortably, just re-adjusting to the feeling, and the crackling atmosphere around them. 

 

“Kurt, you are human, that’s the problem, you’re normal, you’re supposed to feel these things, you were dealt a shit hand and you’re still busy dealing with it in a way you know how, I don’t care about what you have, or what you were like, what you think you’re like now, I care about the person I know, both on the outside and within-”   
Kurt inhales a shaky breathy and places a hand on top of Blaine’s over his cheek, now growing warm under the soft weight, he gently pulls Blaine’s hand away, holding it in his slightly trembling grasp.

 

“Blaine, I-I don’t know what you want from me, what-what you want me to-”

 

“I want nothing from you Kurt, you’ve already given me so much, and I’m so grateful for that, you’re an amazing man-”

 

“Blaine y-you, you should-” Kurt tries to pull back though his fingers are still wrapped tightly around Blaine’s, there is no force in his movement, there is no will behind his words. Blaine lowers his voice.

 

“What, what is it Kurt, tell me.” Blaine’s eyes drop to Kurt’s lips, pink and full and parted into an adorable ‘O’ shape, and Blaine watches as he draws in a breath and lets it out with a slight shudder. Blaine moves in, he moves closer, mind blown and common sense and rationality long gone, to fuck knows where. Even in the grey winter daylight, Kurt’s eyes are still illuminated orbs in his beautiful pale face of hard defined lines and sculpted features. Blaine continues as Kurt just sits there silently, panting almost, pupils dilating. 

 

“I think I know,” Blaine whispers almost against Kurt’s lips, the tips of their noses just starting to graze. Blaine can hear Kurt’s breath rush out of his chest, he think he can hear his heart thud dramatically, hard and fast, along with his own. “I think I know what you want, but you think that you don’t deserve it-”

 

“Blaine-” It’s hardly a word, it’s hardly even audible as Kurt curls his fingers tighter around Blaine’s hand and draws it into the soft knit over his chest.

 

“You deserve it Kurt, you’re allowed, it’s ok.” Blaine’s whispering breath tickles warmth onto Kurt’s jaw, their whiskery fuzzy shadows of their jaws and cheeks almost brushing.

 

The final press of their mouths together, hard and fast, comes as a slight shock to Blaine, even though that was completely the headed direction in which was intended, but he thought that he would have to take that leap, to cross that line. What he didn’t expect was for Kurt to actually close the distance between them, melding their lips against each others in one firm, steady press, lingering for taste and for touch and for more.

 

Blaine suddenly aware of what the fuck is actually, finally, happening between them, sits still, letting Kurt take control. He flinches when Kurt’s hand against his chest spreads and their fingers widen together over the steady rise and fall and the thump-thump of his heart. Kurt’s free hand comes from out of nowhere and inches into the softer hair at the nape of Blaine’s neck, scratching lightly and curling into where the gel just begins to thicken into a style. It’s like a dream.

 

Kurt finally opens his eyes, and Blaine feels a current run through him, a shock of blue boring into him and then Kurt moves slightly with a low groan, and Blaine fights to not smile into the kiss. Kurt’s upper lip curves over Blaine’s and his teeth gently pull Blaine’s lower lip in and close, he sucks and nibbles and Blaine can do nothing but sit there still and take it, he just about bites back the moan that rises up his chest in a deep rumble as Kurt moves his hand to cup the other side of Blaine’s face, allowing Blaine’s hand to stay resting over Kurt’s heart, fingers curling into the softness of his lapels, feeling the energy and the adrenaline and the power course through him with every brush and lick and suck.

 

Blaine gasps, he can’t help it and Kurt takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth, teasing with his tongue and just take, take, take. Blaine moves fully onto his knees, hardly bearing his own weight on the couch and Kurt presses in further, almost towering over him. Blaine feels himself sliding sideways and back into the couch, he whimpers when Kurt’s hand drops to his shoulders, down to his back, guiding him, lowering him down.

 

“K-Kurt, Kurt, god, yes-” He can’t help it, the words pour from him breathlessly, a rasped babble between tongue and teeth and lips. And almost instantly he regrets it, wishing he could swallow the words back down.

 

Kurt stills and straightens, he pulls away from Blaine with a slick wet sound and a harsh rush of breath. He pants with wide glazed eyes, he looks lost in himself, in some sort of daze, cheeks prettily flushed, lips wet and pink and parted, kiss-swollen and Blaine just wants to take them between his own again and never let go. 

 

“Jesus, I-I’m sorry, we should, we can’t, I- sorry-” Kurt scrambles up from the couch, eyes hardening, large and clear as a fresh new morning.

 

“Kurt no-wait, don’t be, I’m sorry, Kurt-” Blaine rises on to his knees and turns on the couch, watching as Kurt hurries away from him to the door, pulling his clothes back into place as he moves. “Kurt please?”

 

Blaine doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, doesn’t even know what he wants to say, but when Kurt halts in the open doorway and looks back at him, the words die in his throat.

 

Kurt doesn’t look mad or angry or even sad, his face is not contorted with rage and his eyes are not even full with any kind of emotion, round and wide yes, but they bore into him with so much unknown sentiment that Blaine cant even begin to try and place it. His beautiful face is like a blank canvas, composed and passive, there is nothing but a glimmer, a very tiny fleeting passing of hope and then he’s gone. 

 

Blaine blinks into the blank space as Kurt’s retreating footsteps carry him away down the hall, leaving an echoing hollowing sound in his wake.   
And yet Blaine isn’t feeling what he should be feeling, he isn’t panicking or stressing about what the holy hell he has just allowed to happen, he has just initiated. 

 

The small speck of hope that he thought he had seen etched into the lines of Kurt’s face and the depths of his eyes, has now leapt into the crease of Blaine’s mouth, forcing his lips into small but sure smile.

 

*

 

“Hey cat, get off. Now.” Blaine grins with a low, deep chuckle as he looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor up against the couch in the living room. There are boxes and stacks of cards, envelopes, pens and all kinds of stationary surrounding him. Music is filling the air around them and lyrics of snowmen and snowfall filling Blaine’s ears as he hums along. 

 

Santana is in the corner near the bar, towering elegantly in her usual black heels and a red fitted dress with a white trim. She’s teetering around a large fat tree, thick and plush, a rich deep green, smelling fresh and wonderful of pine and earth. A twine of sparkling tinsel is hanging from her fingers as she tries to coax it into some kind of pattern around the branches artfully.

 

Jester is down at her feet, up on his back legs with one fluffy front paw resting against Santana’s bare leg, claws curling up and out, and one batting through the air trying to catch the dangling sparkly rope in her hand. There’s glitter flying around him with each swoosh, as he looks up at her with wide, pleading blue eyes and playful little mewls squeak out of him. 

 

“Do not talk to my cat that way, Ms Lopez, thank you very much, he has feelings.” 

 

“Remove him Anderson, I mean it, if there is one hair on this dress, or one scratch then so help me god-”

 

Blaine laughs as he taps his fingers against the hard wood floors and makes soft sounds between his lips, “Come here Buddy, leave her alone, she’s not worth it.” Santana mutters something unintelligible as Jes excitedly scatters across the floor towards Blaine, landing just beside his thigh and sending items flying across the floor.

 

“Santana get that thing off of my tree now, it is tacky and distasteful and uncoordinated-” Blaine startles at Kurt’s voice as he enters the room from behind him. He continues looking down, tickling Jes’s fur as the cat rolls over on to his back, tail thumping and swooshing.

 

“Ok that’s it, I’m done.” Santana pulls her arm back hard, the tinsel unravelling from the branches and dropping to the floor into a pile, where Jester immediately notices and runs and launches himself into it. The tree shakes and rebalances itself in its little stand wrapped up in a red bow, the tree decorations sway with a slight jingle as they resettle. “Happy freaking holidays, one and all, I have a flight to catch for two weeks in the sun, and-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, we know, get your lucky ass out of here-”

 

“Who are you calling lucky? Do you even know who you are, you don’t have to stay here and wallow in your self pity you know, there are a million other-” Kurt suddenly appears in Blaine’s side-eyed view.   
It’s Sunday and he’s wearing loose jeans and a long sleeved maroon coloured shirt and brown suede moccasin slippers on his feet, he looks edible. Kurt gets to Santana in three long strides, wrapping her up in his long arms and cutting off her rant as she gives herself up into his embrace. Blaine watches from the floor, a small smile on his lips.

 

“Merry Christmas Tana, be safe, have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t, say hi to your girl from me-” Kurt pulls back and places a kiss to Santana’s cheek. She does the same to him before lowering herself to his ear.

 

“Take it easy Kurt, I mean it, please, have fun, like fun fun.” She glances at Blaine then with a flick of her eyes, he realizes then has left it too late to act like he hasn’t been watching and listening. Santana winks at him with a smirk before letting go of Kurt and waltzing out of the room, heels clacking and hips sashaying.

 

“Merry Christmas Bowtie, and feline friend.”

 

“Merry Christmas San.” Blaine calls back to the sounds of her footsteps with a smile.

 

Kurt steps up to the bar and starts to fix himself a drink, the elevator out in the entrance hall beeps lightly indicating that Santana has safely reached the ground floor and safely out of their way for two whole weeks.   
The music continues to play into the silence and Blaine purses his lips as he watches Jes roll around causing a mess of glitter all around him.

 

“You want one?” With a start Blaine glances up to Kurt at the bar who is looking down at him, holding out a glass tumbler filled about three fingers full with a dark orangey liquid.

 

“Um, yeah sure, thanks.” Blaine smiles and watches as Kurt picks up another glass and a bottle and comes over towards him. He self consciously fidgets with the cards on the floor beside him and thinks about packing up and moving to sit up on the couch but Kurt comes to sit right in front of him, long legs crossed in front of him, the frayed hem of his jeans draping across the floor. He pours some strong smelling liquor into the glass before handing into Blaine.

 

Blaine smiles and nods in thanks and closes his lips around the edge of the glass, he closes his eyes as the liquid hot and soothing rolls down his throat warming its way down deliciously. Kurt places the bottle down between them and nods down at the floor whilst lifting his glass to his mouth.

 

“Holiday cards?” Blaine swallows some more and hums.

 

“Oh uh yeah, tomorrow’s the last day to post right?”

 

“Right,” They both take small sips from their glasses, and watch with amusement as Jester body crawls over to them, the tinsel dangling from his mouth. Blaine winces at the trail of glitter he’s leaving behind but Kurt doesn’t seem to mind, it’s nothing that can’t be cleaned up anyway. “Couldn’t you hand deliver? You’re not going home for Christmas?” 

 

Blaine takes another drink and goes slowly about, buying himself time as he taps the glass with a finger. He knew this question would come up, he’s surprised it’s not happened before now. Though honestly this is the first time that they’ve really spoken in a good few days, like face to face, that wasn’t work related.

 

They hadn’t talked about ‘the kiss’ and Blaine wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t but he was disappointed. Yes it would be awfully awkward and could go either way but this wasn’t like that silly talk and overly tempting peck they had shared at the convention hotel. This was real, very real, desirable and so, so good, it meant something, to Blaine it did. 

 

Blaine had tried to talk to Kurt about it back in the office later that day but Kurt had simply stuck a pointed finger up in the air saying ‘not in work time’ and they carried on about their day, as if nothing had happened. And the same had happened the next day and the next, until Blaine had given up trying altogether. They had their breaks separately and thankfully had no events scheduled in and when the clock reached six-thirty Kurt would lock himself up in his room for the night until the next morning. Blaine’s not going to lie, the kiss and the whole idea of where it could have lead to had provided some very useful material for Blaine and his hand during his personal, private time. The whole thing had been eating at Blaine though, from inside out, and so Blaine was glad to wake up to a day off this morning, not having to be expected to act or lie to himself or pretend, but he wasn’t expecting Kurt actually coming to hang out with him and talk to him like this.

 

“Um no, I’m not going home this year, I uh, I’m sorry I should have asked or something, it’s ok right, I can still stay-” Kurt laughs, cutting him off.

 

“God Blaine, I’m not gonna throw you out on the street or anything, this is your home too, of course its ok.” Jester who had been spread out on the floor by their feet, suddenly drops the tinsel from his mouth and hooks a claw into the frayed hem of Kurt’s jeans who laughs in return. “It’s not about this one is it?” Kurt says nodding down at the grey cat trying to eat his clothes, “Cause I’ll be here, I’ll watch him for you.”

 

“Oh that’s very nice of you, thank you, I appreciate that, but no, I uh, I called back home a few weeks ago, they’re visiting with Cooper actually, I was invited but honestly I don’t know who I feel sorry for the most.” Blaine laughs and Kurt joins him, his blue eyes alight and twinkling along with the green leafy wreath that had been draped over the hearth, strewn with tiny plastic glowing bulbs. He seems relaxed today and Blaine finds that he can relax because of it, maybe they can talk it all out. 

 

Blaine honestly can’t think of anything worse than going back to Ohio for the holidays, they don’t even exchange gifts anymore, unless it’s a voucher or an online discounted code for something boring. Even with not knowing what’s going between himself and Kurt and could spend the whole time being blanked, he still finds that more appealing.   
Blaine doesn’t have to ask why Kurt isn’t travelling back to Lima either, he knows he’ll be hitting dangerous territory if he tries to raise the question.   
Sam had left yesterday and won’t be coming back until the New Year, like Santana, they really will be alone, actually alone. Jester meows loudly whilst pawing at anything he can reach, as if hearing Blaine’s thoughts and reminding him of his presence.

 

“I um, I think that they’re still a little angry that I didn’t show up for thanksgiving.” Blaine continues and chuckles. 

 

“And why did you not?”

 

“Because I prefer being here.” No point in lying about anything now.

 

The music around them seems to grow a little louder into the soft silence that falls between them, as the track changes to something a little more upbeat. Lyrics of mothers and fathers and fireplaces and ultimately the fact that it is indeed cold outside, filters around them as Kurt drains his glass, whilst trying to avert his heavy gaze. He fills his glass up again, then tops up Blaine’s without even asking first. Blaine mumbles a thanks and takes a fresh sip, the alcohol is warm and feels heavy in his chest and his veins, he can feel it deep down. He bites his lip in thought.

 

“Kurt-”

 

“I’m sorry Blaine, for what happened-”

 

“No you don’t, don’t apologise-”

 

“I meant what I said about not discussing such things during work hours, but I’d like to talk about it now if you do? I’m sorry its taken this long.” Oh.

 

“Yes, um I-”

 

“I’m sorry that I walked out the way I did.” Double oh. 

 

“I’m sorry that I kissed you.”

 

“Are you though?” Kurt’s head is tilted to one side, that smirk on his lips and eyes a little hooded, he looks unfairly gorgeous. “And let’s be honest, I kissed you, did I not?”

 

Blaine sets his glass down beside him and draws up his legs, hugging his knees to his chest, he lowers his chin and grins into his Sunday sweat pants. “No I’m not sorry, and yes I believe you did, therefore I’m not sorry that you did that either.” Kurt smiles, takes a small swig and sets his glass down to the side, he gently shoo’s Jes away from his leg, the little cat picks up his tinsel and takes it away, tapping over the wood floor dismissively as if they are no longer good enough company for him to keep. 

 

Kurt rests both of his elbows on his knees and balls his fists up under his jaw, he leans inward. “Me neither, but honestly, I don’t know what to say to you right now, but I know that I should say something, that you’re expecting me to, but I um I don’t know-”

 

“It’s ok Kurt, you don’t have to say anything, I-we, it doesn’t have to be anything, we don’t have to-”

 

Kurt lifts himself forward on to his knees, bracing himself on his forearms as he crawls towards Blaine. Blaine’s words dry up in his throat at the sight that is inching towards him, he licks his lips at each roll of Kurt’s muscled shoulders in that tight shirt and he knows that his eyes have darkened to heated slits.

 

“I can’t promise you anything Blaine.” Blaine is barely aware of the song still playing in the background as Kurt crawls to a stop, just a breath, just a kiss away. The lyrics roll thickly between them as Blaine swallows hard, his gaze roaming around Kurt’s face and then dropping to the perfect pout of his mouth.

 

Gosh your lips look delicious…

 

“I don’t need promises Kurt.” He does, but that’s beside the point right now. His words are barely there, a hoarse rasp, straining from his throat as he pulls himself up onto his bended knees, hands falling limply at his sides as Kurt rises to meet him and bends a little into the crook of Blaine’s neck. He’s right there.

 

Oooh your lips are delicious…

 

“Good, because this is all I can give, all I can do, right now.” Kurt whispers into Blaine’s skin, leaving a slight brush of lips after each word.

 

“Until further notice r-right?” 

 

Kurt’s sky blue eyes light up like a thunderstorm with a bolt of lightening running through. He looks like he’s finally been allowed something that was always in his reach yet still too far, like he’s finally won some kind of internal battle with himself. 

 

Kurt runs his hands up down Blaine’s arms, fingers sketching the lines of hard muscle and flesh, feeling the slight shivers under his touch. Once again Kurt closes the distance between them, he’s feral almost, like a mad man, a man who has finally got what he wants.   
The feel of soft lips sucking wet bruises into pulsing pliant skin, is like a seal of fate.

 

“Right.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Happy Saturday ;) thank you and enjoy.

Center and clarify, that’s what needs to happen right now, Blaine needs to center himself and clarify his emotions. He needs to find his way back to a smidgen of reality and the smallest almost sensible part of himself, and when he finds it he needs to cling on for dear life and possibly try and haul himself back into some shred of rationality. 

 

If only Kurt’s sinful rosy lips and tongue and perfect teeth would let him do that though. If only they’d stop their relentless, delicious artful task of bursting most blood vessels underneath the glowing skin of his throat and neck and smooth chest, inviting the tempting flush of reds and purples to surface in doing so.

 

And Blaine of course, does not want them to, not at all. 

 

Blaine writhes underneath a strong hold, his body now only half clothed clammy and warm between the soft fabric couch cushions below and the unmistakable desirable feel of Kurt’s toned chest and muscular thick thighs pressed down against him. 

 

With the wet sticky style long lost Kurt cards his fingers easily in and out of Blaine’s hair as his forearms rest on either side of his head propped up against the arm of the couch. Kurt’s hips lift lazily up and down, grinding slowly with light moans and soft breathy pants, the denim covering his thighs grazing against the thin cotton of Blaine’s sweats, in a rough firm teasing pattern, his knees firmly pressed to either side of Blaine’s body, straddling him, owning him, in body and mind.

 

The kisses had started in the crook of Blaine’s neck, soft and gentle and teasing, just below where his five o’clock shadow was starting to show. Kurt had situated them comfortably up on the couch, after Blaine’s cards and pens were sent flying along with his mostly empty glass tumbler, socks and slippers pulled away during the scramble. His nose tickled the fine hairs around Blaine’s ears and back of his neck as he trailed downwards and around, to the curve and hollow of his throat, he tongued at his Adam’s apple and nipped at the hard dents in his collarbone. Every suck and brush and gaze was an exploration of taste and touch, followed by a need for more, more, more.

 

By the time Kurt had begun to venture down to the hard planes of Blaine’s smooth breast plates and pectoral muscles, Blaine’s t-shirt had already been rucked up and pulled off carelessly and dropped to the floor below them. Kurt seemed to bare a hint of hesitation after de-shirting Blaine, which was quickly replaced with a desperate grunt, strangely resembling ‘oh what the hell.’ Thank god it was Sunday and a lack of buttons and tedious items of clothing seemed to be law. 

 

Kurt is like a man starved of food and water for too long, finally presented with a bounty of mouth watering tastes, all for his taking, delicious to the tongue and sitting pleasantly in his gut. There is a vulnerability to Kurt like this, underneath it all, he’s taking from Blaine through touch and taste like he doesn’t know when his next meal will be, his next chance, like he still isn’t sure, but he wants so much, too much. It’s a strangely wonderful feeling. Like the tables have been turned. Kurt, the man who Blaine has been secretly pining for all of this time, the thing that Blaine had resigned himself to thinking would never happen, is happening. Kurt is happening, hard and also incredibly soft and very real, on top of him right now, stripping him of his clothes and thoughts and wrenching every un-surfaced feeling out from him.   
Blaine doesn’t actually know what to think, so he does what he does best, he feels instead, he feels like he’s never felt before. 

 

Kurt grins devilishly into Blaine’s flushed skin with each gasp and groan that escapes him, with each thrust and grind, clearly thoroughly enjoying himself, and seeming to push any otherwise thoughts to one side. Though Blaine knows that somewhere in Kurt’s subconscious he will be over-thinking, he will be over-feeling, Blaine just knows Kurt. Blaine’s hands loosen from their vice like grip around Kurt’s shoulders and skim their way down to the hem of Kurt’s shirt, lifting and feeling the slight trailing light fuzz and definitions of his stomach as he rolls the fabric upwards. 

 

God this is too good, too damn good, Blaine could just die happily like this, right now, inching further, the pace quickening. Just as the thoughts form somewhere in the haze of Blaine’s mind, Kurt shoots up with a slick gasp against Blaine’s mouth as he rips his lips away, sitting straight up on top of Blaine, with more force than intended. Kurt obviously had been having similar thoughts, though their reactions, of course differed. 

 

Blaine tries to lift himself up after Kurt, eyes wide and dark, his hands curling around Kurt’s neck, scratching into his hair, pulling him down to meet him halfway. Their lips connect with a clash of teeth, breath panting warm and fast against Kurt’s lips and jaw.

 

“Come back to me, don’t stop.”

 

“B-Blaine, I can’t, you don’t know-”

 

“Shh, it’s ok, you can, you can, please-” Kurt is drawn back down into Blaine’s embrace with multiple kisses, Blaine’s leg hooks around his waist, pulling him and keeping him close as Blaine runs his hands up and over his shoulders and back, sliding under his shirt once more with fanned fingers. Blaine can’t let this stop, not now, not yet. He can’t let Kurt talk himself out of it, not when he was so eager, Blaine thinks that he may know Kurt better than he knows himself. Spending the very best and most part of eight months with somebody can do that.

 

Kurt groans under the feel of Blaine’s hands, his skin tingles under each mould his wide warm palms make over his body, and each trail his skilful fingers set a path on. Blaine grins at the grateful sounds against Kurt’s mouth, his teeth sucking at Kurt’s lips. Kurt doesn’t notice that Blaine has successfully lifted his shirt up and over his shoulders until it is swiped over his head and pulled from his arms with a flourish. 

 

Blaine noses a trail over Kurt’s smooth sternum and down smiling as he goes with Kurt planting his hands into his curls, fingers digging, encouraging. He wriggles himself a little lower and flicks his tongue out, circling Kurt’s navel and earning a delicious whine from up above. 

 

Kurt is as absolutely beautiful under his clothing as Blaine had eagerly suspected, his torso practically a pristine unblemished canvas, tight and firm and defined with mounds of muscle almost everywhere, yet so soft and pleasurable to touch.   
He closes his hands around Kurt’s tight hips and gently draws him down as he pushes himself up.   
It’s a little off-balance and a little messy but god was the intention spot on, their groins align with what feels likes a jolt of lustful power flashing through, and there is no doubt at all about what’s going on under the denim and cotton grinding lazily against each other. 

 

There’s another chorus of moans and whimpers and when Kurt feels his own name whispered brokenly into the V cut shape just below his abdomen, he suddenly plants his hands onto Blaine’s chest and pins him down and with a deep gaze, eyes like shimmering grey orbs round and hooded, “Ok-ok stop, just stop.”

 

They pant into the growing silence, eye lids fluttering and each trying to regain breath, and strength and sensibility.   
Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it against, he tries again and licks his lips, lifting a hand to his forehead and resting it partially over his eyes. There is something lost about him, pained and unsure but Kurt looks worse, Kurt looks wrecked, like there’s an invisible force clinging at his shoulders keeping him away from Blaine. 

 

“I-I thought that you-you wanted-” Kurt laughs a short, harsh breath and slides sideways off of Blaine’s body, he keeps his legs hooked over the top of Blaine’s as he leans back, making sure that Blaine can’t go far so he sits up a little, resting against the arm of the couch.

 

“God, you don’t know the half of it-”

 

“Well tell me, tell me Kurt, please, you cant just-we can’t do this if-”

 

Kurt looks over at him and pulls his hand down from his face, entwining their fingers and tugging, pulling Blaine up into more of sitting position, his chest just brushing into the swell of Kurt’s shoulders. Suddenly aware they are both shirtless and were well on their way to somewhere too dangerous to think about, just minutes ago. 

 

Kurt’s voice is rasped and breathy and he swallows just to try and regain some composure, “Blaine I-I’m sorry, I-”

 

Blaine tugs at his shoulders and twists him around to face him full on, almost chest to chest with legs gathered together awkwardly but clearly uncaring of their half clothed connected states.   
“Kurt, just- just tell me now, say that you don’t want this and I’ll stop, I promise, say the word and I wont come near you again, not like this, we wont talk about it ever again, just-just tell me-”

 

Kurt eyes flutter close at each breath, hot and ragged, each rise and fall of their bodies, the alcohol from before sits warm and languid in their chests and bellies and the music had died off a short while ago. The silence is heady and daunting and Kurt whimpers when he feels a soft press of moist lips against his, not quite kissing just touching, just there.

 

“Tell me,” Blaine repeats, a rough whisper, “tell me that you don’t want this, that you don’t want me.” Blaine knows that he’s verging on desperate, he knows he sounds needy, but just can’t find it in himself to care. He needs this, he needs to know one way or another, it’s gone on for too long, job or no job, this has to end, this has to either develop or evaporate. And god only knows which one Blaine is hopeful for.

 

Kurt’s eyes open and flash and with the greying light from the late winter afternoon outside, Blaine feels like he can lose himself within the watery pools staring back at him, he knows he can spend the rest of his days right here with this sight before him, with the warm softness under his palms and the lingering tingle on his lips.

 

“Blaine I can’t give you what you want-”

 

“How do you know exactly what I want?”

 

“Blaine please, I know you, I know that you-”

 

“But you do want me, don’t you? I know that you do.” Kurt groans as he feels his resolve begin to slip and slide away, all of his focus, everything he has held on to for so long slides out of his reach and into the hands of another person, but it’s not just another person, its one Mr Blaine Anderson. His lips move against Blaine’s without permission, and Blaine moans breathily in return. “I won’t ask, I won’t take anything from you that you don’t want to give me.”

 

Kurt’s eyes flutter open and closed as he brushes his nose alongside Blaine’s, his fingers tentatively close around Blaine’s jaw, nails scraping through the shadow of stubble. Blaine turns his chin and kisses at his finger tips, nipping at the pads.

 

“No promises ok?” Blaine whispers against them, their eyes locking on to each others dark and deep and almost dangerous. Kurt is going to lose it, Kurt is about to make either the best or worst decision of his life. “Don’t think about it. Just let me, you need me, I can help, let me help you Kurt.” 

 

And that’s it, words that Kurt didn’t know he needed to hear, fill his ears and senses, they pour through him inside out and settle deep down. And whether it has been fully acknowledged yet or not, those words, those feelings are not just meant for this moment, they travel further beyond what’s happening between them in this instant. The sound Kurt makes is breathy and whimpering and a rumble short of a growl.

 

“God, touch me, touch me Blaine, now.” And Blaine does not need asked twice.

 

He slides his legs out from underneath Kurt and straddles his hips, his fingers working at the belt buckle whilst he mouths at the underside of Kurt’s jaw slow and careful, his body thrumming almost vibrating with pleasure and excitement and pent up tension, and even a little nerve’s.

 

Blaine shuffles his knees and slides backwards and down off of the couch, kneeling before Kurt on the floor. His fingers pull Kurt’s jeans carefully down and away from his body painfully slowly, revealing a tight pair of black Emporio Armani boxers with a white waistband, barely covering Kurt’s impressive groin area. The sight does absolutely nothing to help calm the already tented situation going on in Blaine’s sweat pants.

 

Blaine kisses Kurt’s inner ankles in soft circles as he wriggles the denim free and throws them away behind him, only then does he remember Jester being around when he hears the quiet answering hiss. Blaine quickly looks to the side to find the little cat standing on all fours beside the pile of Kurt’s discarded denim jeans, his furry backside and tail up in the air swishing angrily with a look that is half annoyed/half fairly interested, before he strolls off around the back of the couch and out of sight. Blaine would laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that there are far more important, less funnier things to concentrate on right now.

 

His lips trail up Kurt’s calves, he caresses the sensitive underside of his knees and tickles the outer sides of his thighs lightly as his mouth catches up, tongue trailing, marking. When he reaches the hem of black tight fabric, Blaine finally tears his eyes away from the expanse of creamy skin before him. He finds that it’s within his best efforts to avoid direct contact with the most obvious bulge straining the front of the thin dark fabric, and instead looks up to find Kurt staring back down at him. 

 

Blaine’s mouth goes dry and his palms clammy, he feels likes he could explode under the sizzling heat of Kurt’s darkening gaze, eyes like a blue, silvery liquid, pupils dilated, almost disappearing under fluttering long lashes and heavy lids. Blaine exhales a loud shuddering breath as his fingers skirt lightly up the outsides of Kurt’s thighs, resting on his hips, slowly drumming into his skin. He waits, he silently asks.

 

Seconds feel like hours, Blaine can only imagine what he must look like to Kurt down there, sitting at his feet, his chest thumping with each breath, eyes dark like golden lava and big in his flushed face, his hair hand-messed, by Kurt’s hands though, Kurt’s hands did that to him, Kurt’s mouth, those perfect lips and set of teeth left marks on his skin. The memory forever engraved in Blaine’s mind. 

 

Blaine has to take another calming breath when Kurt finally gives him a very subtle but very clear nod of his head, finally deciding and determined. Those eyes that could cause Blaine to buckle if he wasn’t already kneeling, flash with want and need and the barest hint of a smile appears. Kurt’s hands stretch downwards to curl around Blaine’s neck and jaw when Blaine digs his fingers underneath the waistband of Kurt’s boxers and achingly slowly, inches them lower and lower. 

 

Kurt’s cock is sprung free and stands up to attention, curling in towards his belly button, as Blaine curls the fabric downwards and off with a groan of approval. They pool onto to floor by Blaine’s knee, he sighs breathlessly and doesn’t know what to do first, there are too many things that he wants, that he needs. His eyes are already locking on to the flushed length just inches away, his fingers already itching to touch, to take. He is allowed, Blaine is allowed to do this, to have Kurt like this. He feel likes he has acceptance unto the pearly gates. 

 

He places his warm palms, fingers spread wide back onto Kurt’s thighs and rubs up and down gently as he lowers his head and leans in. He places the first shaky kiss to the very bottom of the base of Kurt’s cock, feather light, nose nudging upwards, keeping him still and straight for his lips. Kurt lets out the most delicious whimper and Blaine grins slightly at the corner of his mouth as he continues his trail of kisses right up to the tip, closed lipped becoming wet and open mouthed, moans escaping with each exhale. 

 

Kurt is long and slender here, thick at the base with a fat pinkish head, his balls heavy and firm against Blaine’s chin, perfectly exquisite. Blaine’s tongue flicks out to swirl around Kurt’s head, the bitter/sweet tang filling his senses, he opens his mouth wide and drags it into his mouth as his moves his hands, using one to grip Kurt’s shaft firmly between his fingers and the other to cup underneath, teasing the sensitive area between Kurt’s cock and ball sack and then lower.

 

Kurt moans and whines up above, shifting against the fabric, his hands and fingers tangling into dark riotous curls to keep him steady, to keep him busy and not dissolving into a boneless heap under Blaine’s tongue and hands. Blaine goes down deeper, lower, his tongue absolutely tearing Kurt up from inside out, reducing him to just a pooling heat and babbling syllables. 

 

God this isn’t going to last, Blaine is swallowing him up warm and sure, hard and fast, tongue gliding with his throat, his hands are just causing the right amount of pressure and Kurt is not going to last much longer at all. His fingers dig in further, twining and tugging gently into Blaine’s hair, as he tries to pull his head up.   
Their eyes meet, dark and feral like a flash of thunder and Blaine gasps gorgeously as he lets Kurt go with a slick ‘pop’, lips parted and red.   
It’s the sexiest thing that Kurt has ever seen, and that’s without the sound effects, his cock throbs hard in Blaine’s hand still curled around him, keeping him in place and Kurt can barely pull the words from the throat.

 

“I’m close- I’m, god it’s, you’re-” Blaine smirks as he lowers his head, his tongue peeking out, sliding back into place along Kurt’s pulsing length.

 

“It’s ok, you can, I want you to.” He kisses around the head and whispers into the salty slick slit whilst he licks at the pre-come gathering there, “Come for me Kurt, come on.” He closes his lips around Kurt once more and glides down again, pushing him into his throat, hot and tight and slick, Kurt groans but the rumbling sounds turn to breath and crushed air as Blaine’s hand tightens and strokes with each perfectly timed bob of his head.

 

There is an unspoken bond of loyalty and trust there, a conversation of protection and common sense that doesn’t seem to be needed between them. It’s too far past that point, they are beyond lies and tip-toeing around each other. To put it bluntly if a condom or a conversation of that variety was needed, then one would have been had.

 

“B-Blaine, god Blaine, I’m, yes I’m, please-” The sounds of Kurt panting his name, the feel of him thrusting his hips up into his touch, is almost Blaine’s undoing alone. He can feel his own cock hard and wet and ready and desperate to be out, to join in the party too, nudging at the thin seem of his sweats.   
Sunday has also become known as ‘commando day’ in Blaine’s head, especially when Santana had started making a habit of turning up unannounced knowing that Blaine was often forgetful of his bedroom lock and key, and pulling on the nearest pair of pants became the most important thing first and foremost.   
Thank goodness for the dark shade of grey pair of pants he had opted for this morning, because right now there is definitely a fourteen year old situation going on down there. However with the way he can feel Kurt loosening and coming undone in his mouth, he gets the feeling Kurt wouldn’t care so much about the possibly telling smudges on his crotch.

 

Blaine can’t remember the last time he did this, was like this with somebody, this close and personal and actually felt completely confident and totally awesome and so utterly turned on by it all, at the same time. Past occasional boyfriends he’d had were mere conveniences if he was to be completely honest, and whenever he’d venture to a bar in his younger years to ‘look’, he’d get so wasted that even his own hand wasn’t worthy at the end of the night. 

 

This right now, with Kurt, is something that’s verging on dangerous, something he knows he won’t be willing to give up or forget anytime soon, something he is going to want again and again, over and over, and Kurt hasn’t even touched him yet, not down there.   
Blaine hasn’t even allowed the fact that Kurt is indeed still his boss, no matter how far they go and for how long. Kurt will always be his employer, so long as he doesn’t fire his ass, which Blaine also has to not give a conscious thought to at this moment. Blaine doesn’t let it filter through yet, it’s pushed to the very back of everything and all that is important right now is the now, now, now and more, more, more. Everything is just Kurt, Kurt, Kurt and oh my fucking god. 

 

Blaine bobs back up a fraction careful of his teeth but allowing a light graze, knowing how teasingly delicious it can feel. He widens his lips and mouths around Kurt, he didn’t even know he could do this, Kurt has just created a whole new porno alto ego within him. “Yes, come on that’s it, let me feel it, let me feel you, come for me.”

 

Blaine glides back down, his hand meeting his lips and tongue, his fingers cupping and curling underneath and Kurt’s hips meeting each movement, the air around and between them thick and heady. The lingering traces of light cologne and malt liquor are still in their noses and on their tongues and it all melds together perfectly. 

 

“Blaine, B-Blaine god, p-please-” Blaine pushes down in one final slide, his nose pressing into Kurt’s neatly trimmed pubic hair just below his tight abdomen, as his throat opens and welcomes Kurt’s long pulsing length all of the way down, his fist clenches up and down and his fingers tickle and squeeze Kurt’s balls with one hand.

 

Kurt cries out above him high and breathy and comes, he come so hard, filling Blaine’s mouth with each push, trickling down into his throat, gush after gush. Blaine plants a hand down onto Kurt’s hip to stop him from thrusting up too much, he licks and sucks and eases him through his release. Kurt chants Blaine’s name breathlessly as Blaine moans out little sounds of encouragement in response.  
The whole thing unbelievably sensuous and glorious.

 

Blaine’s knees are sore, his jaw aches and his cock is throbbing to the point of almost pain with a wave of pleasure, he swallows everything that Kurt has given him and finally pulls away messily when Kurt starts to calm and still. He rests his chin against Kurt’s thigh and kisses his hip bone as he stares up at Kurt face. 

 

Kurt has his eyes closed, head tilted backwards against the back of the couch, cheeks flushed and lips parted with his fingers still resting in Blaine’s hair as his breathing returns to normal with short pants. Blaine smiles up at the sight, he smiles at the fact that he has done this, he has made Kurt look this way, he has been able, been honoured to earn Kurt’s trust to allow him to see Kurt this way, to experience him so open and raw and fucking beautiful, even more than usual. 

 

Kurt finally opens his eyes and dips his chin, clear and blue and breathtaking as Blaine continues to stare up at him, placing kisses along the edge of his thighs and groin, his hips and along the crease of his belly where his cock is softening. Kurt’s lips part and his fingers drag down the sides of Blaine’s face, his neck and trace the muscles in his chest, drawing circles around Blaine’s nipples and the fading marks his own teeth had left there earlier.

 

With his bout of confidence still intact, drawing strength from Kurt’s silent watchful gaze, and his cock still reminding him that it is still there and ready as ever, Blaine slowly rises off of his knees. He doesn’t wait, he cant, he fingers the waistline of his sweats and dips underneath, as he crawls up onto the couch, with his knees on either side of Kurt’s, he pulls his own pants over the mound of his ass and down past his thighs.   
Blaine startles when Kurt leans forward quickly taking his lips between his own and his hands take over, pulling the grey cotton down and off of Blaine’s bent legs with a smooth tug. Kurt isn’t even fazed by Blaine’s lack of underwear as his cock excitedly springs free, bouncing to life. Kurt’s been fairly sure of Blaine’s ‘Relaxed Sunday Tendencies’ for a while now, he even lets out an appreciative moan upon realizing his suspicions were correct. 

 

They kiss and kiss, hard and fast, gasping and teeth clashing, Kurt’s fingers dig into the soft flesh of Blaine’s ass as Blaine moans into his mouth and pulls himself up and in, grasping both sides of Kurt’s face and kissing him like he needs it, just like he needs oxygen. 

 

“K-Kurt, Kurt I need, I need-” Kurt can taste his words, can feel them in his mouth, can feel the need and the want and that’s without Blaine’s protruding cock, flushed and thick, so gorgeously thick, curling into his stomach between them.

 

“I know, I know, relax, I’ve got you.” Kurt slides a hand up and around and closes his fingers around Blaine’s cock as Blaine moans and bites his lip into the next kiss in return. 

 

“Ffffuuuck yes, yes, damn.” Kurt grins, he’s never heard Blaine swear, not like that, even if it is low and rough and quiet, he’s never seen Blaine so undone, so wildly gorgeous and he craves for more, to see and hear and have and take more from him. He tightens his fist and thrills in the feel of their naked bodies pressed together, hot and damp, skin on skin, flesh on flesh, and its fucking perfect. 

 

The friction is hot and dry and there is no need for build up or lubrication of any sort, Blaine is already there. Kurt spreads the pearly beads of pre-come up and over the tip and down the length, his hand that is still groping the globe of Blaine’s ass starts to wander, fingers spreading and lowering as Blaine writhes in Kurt’s lap.

 

Kurt lets a lone a finger break formation and dip into the curve, his finger tip brushes against the dry, rough feel of Blaine’s clenching hole and he rubs back and forth. Blaine shivers at the touch, he groans against Kurt’s lips before ducking his head and panting wetly into Kurt’s shoulder as Kurt’s hands around his cock pulls him closer and closer, and his finger teases his hole into delicious quivering temptation.

 

“K-Kurt, Kurt god, that’s,” Kurt nips Blaine’s earlobe as he pushes further, his finger tip just breaking the entrance. “I-I’m, fuck, there-there-” Blaine comes before he gets to finish, he pants and gasps and mouths gritty, juicy words into Kurt’s skin.

 

Kurt swirls his tongue around the stretch of surrounding skin as he growls quietly into Blaine’s ear whilst the man bobs up and down in his lap, shooting hot ropes of thick creamy liquid over their stomachs and chests. 

 

“Shit.” Blaine brokenly mutters into Kurt’s skin as his body stills and his cock starts to back down and soften, against Kurt’s, though he did feel a twinge of life from his already spent cock once or twice. Kurt hums in assent, his hands coming to rest lightly at Blaine’s sides. Blaine lifts his head and faces Kurt, their noses just a few inches away, their breath catching and calming in unison as they look into each others eyes deeply.

 

Blaine’s eyes warm and liquid-like roam Kurt’s face, he places his hands on top of Kurt’s at his sides and lets his gaze drop to Kurt’s full lips and back up. He does this a couple of times and it’s a question, a plea, like he doesn’t know if he needs permission. He leans in, lips pursed and looks back up one more time, when Kurt only looks back at him with clouded eyes and features so calm and defined, Blaine closes the gap and kisses him hard on the lips.

 

“Is-was that, are you-”

 

“Yes, Blaine. Yes it was ok, it was fucking spectacular actually.” Kurt smirks against his lips and Blaine can feel his urge to roll his eyes at him. Blaine grins and nods as he kisses him again, whispering into the corner of his mouth.

 

“Good, I thought so too.” They sit like that, lightly smiling and sharing dotted kisses and lingering glances for a short while until the combined come and sweat cools and dries on their bodies and only then does the ‘holy fucking shit’ realization actually seems to dawn on them both. 

 

Blaine shuffles and winces, there is only one way out of this situation now and it is not going to be unashamedly or without embarrassment or extreme awkwardness, it just isn’t. He bites his lip and turns his head to eye his pants lying on the floor below and Kurt’s trail of clothes around them.   
Kurt seems to notice and Blaine feels his body tense underneath him as his hands unfold from their tangle and begin to flex out and in.

 

Blaine can feel his throat tighten, and his eyelids prick hot and wet. Oh god, oh no, what has he done, this is going to be so awful, Kurt is going to hate him, Kurt is going to resent him for this, he is going to be like a fucking iceberg, Jester is going to be homeless for Christmas- 

 

Blaine jumps at the light swat on his ass and wriggle of Kurt’s thighs underneath him, he whips his eyes back to Kurt to find him watching him with deep shifting eyes, and his jaw slightly clenched and tight.   
Old Kurt, boss Kurt is indeed back, but, but, just hiding under the tight muscle of a perfectly sculpted cheek, is the most adorable dimple trying to go unseen, caused by the slight upturn of Kurt’s lip that refuses to back down. His eyes are dancing under the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights and the darkening grey of the early evening and Blaine can see that in fact, his Kurt is still there, he hasn’t left him, yet.

 

“Let’s go get cleaned up and have dinner. Meet me back here.” Kurt says as calmly and levelled as his breathless voice is allowing, and Blaine could just kiss him all over and start the whole past half hour all over again.

 

“Ok.” 

 

*

 

They shower and change, separately, in their respective rooms. The whole process of untangling and redressing to a certain, appropriate extent and heading off to their bedrooms which were both in the same direction, was of course as awkward and ridiculous as Blaine thought it would be, there was no getting away from it. And Blaine doesn’t even think twice about throwing his socks into his waste basket, the ones that may or may not have been used during project quick clean up.

 

Blaine had returned to his room to find Jes perched on the end of his bed, sitting proudly with his tail wrapped around him and what Blaine would swear on his own life was an actual smirk on his tiny whiskered face. That cat fucking knew. Blaine laughed and nodded to himself as if answering the unspoken question in his pet’s eyes and headed into his bathroom. 

 

The bathroom door re-opens and he emerges not five minutes later in a swirl of steam, a pair of grey boxers clad to his thighs and rubs his hair dry. He ducks into his closet and pulls on a pair of form fitting jeans, a white tank top and a dove grey v-cut sweater dotted with blacks and beiges. He toes on a pair of slippers waiting by his bedroom door and pulls it open by the handle, he honestly can’t wait to get back down there. 

 

Whilst ignoring the plea in Jes’s eyes for leaving him again, he steps over the threshold only to instantly back pedal back inside and spin towards the mirror hanging on the opposite side of the wall.  
“Damn it.” He mutters under his breath as he fingers hurriedly at his drying curls, he leans down and sideways to open a drawer in his nearby dresser and fishes out his tube of Liquid Steel, coming to straighten back up in view of the mirror and his eyes meeting with a pair of very familiar ones in the open door way behind him.

 

“Why do you do that?” Kurt looks as gorgeous as ever as he steps towards him, his head tilted and eyes watching him, glimmering mischievously. He’s wearing a similar outfit, denim and winter knitwear, white socks on his feet as he pads closer carefully, with his hair messily but sexily so swept back. 

 

“What?” Blaine asks with wide eyes, his fingers sticky with product half way to his head. Kurt comes to stand behind him and nods down to his hand through the reflection. Kurt smells of mint shower gel and expensive aftershave and his skin is glowing. Blaine’s eyes swirl with liquid colour around two black orbs, melting in his face as he watches Kurt with a look of longing, he didn’t give permission to show. 

 

“That. Why do you stick your hair to your scalp?” Kurt’s asks softly with a tinge of amusement. Blaine tries to look affronted but with the way their gazes are boring into each others through the reflective glass, Blaine can do nothing but feel his pulse quicken.

 

“Do-do you not like-” His breath catches and words falter when Kurt brings his arm around him to the front and brushes two of his fingertips against the tiny slick puddle between Blaine’s fingers.

 

“Oh no don’t get me wrong, I do like yes, there’s nothing better than a man with a care for hair, but why don’t you do something like this-” Kurt smiles as he slides his fingers thoughtlessly into Blaine’s hair, and it’s all Blaine can do to stand stock still and thrill in the feeling. 

 

Blaine watches as Kurt moulds his curls into little flicks, sticking up this way and that off of his face and styled just lightly to the side. He wipes the access off onto his jeans. It looks good, very good, if Blaine is honest, and Kurt looks very proud of his work as he steps back and eyes it carefully before returning his gaze back to Blaine’s in the glass.

 

“Isn’t it-um I mean I love it, you’re really great-at that, thank you but isn’t that a little too casual?” Kurt smiles lightly and nudges his shoulder into the back of Blaine’s.

 

“It’s Sunday right? It’s Christmas, so lets…just be casual.” Their eyes positively shine at each others and Kurt smiles so innocently at him that Blaine feels the breath whoosh from his lungs, there is something else there behind that look and that grin, Blaine can feel it. He turns around and instead of stepping back to give Blaine space to move, Kurt stays right where he is, they’re practically chest to chest.

 

“Casual?” Kurt nods slowly, his stormy eyes search Blaine’s face. “And you’re still talking about the hair style?” 

 

After a beat Kurt slowly shakes his head, lips pursed, slowly turning into a lower lip-bite, eyes still focused. “Not necessarily, let’s just, I-you know that-” Blaine holds a finger up to Kurt’s lips shushing him effectively.

 

“I know, I meant what I said.” Blaine’s stomach drops, but he refuses to give in to the emotion, as crazy and stupid as he might be, if this is all Kurt can give him, then this is all he will take. He can’t give up everything they’ve shared, he wants anything that he can have with Kurt, and he will deal with his own stupid feelings later.   
“So Christmas?” He adds with a hint of a cheerier tone though his voice is no more than a rasp. 

 

Kurt nibbles his finger tip and nods, “Yes, let’s just have- let’s just enjoy Christmas…together, and then…” 

“And then?” Blaine tries to mask the spark of hope from his question.

 

“And then… I guess we’ll see, I mean you are contracted right?” Kurt tries as his eyes light with humour and his cheeks split with a wide smile. Blaine drops his finger to Kurt’s collar and hooks it underneath, tugging his face closer.

 

“Oh yeah, until further notice or something like that right?” Blaine breathes, opened mouthed, his mischievous eyes dropping to Kurt’s parted lips, which are now lazily barely brushing against his.   
Blaine knows that he should care about what he is essentially setting himself up for here, but the problem is right now, that he trusts more than he cares. He trusts Kurt not to break his heart even though the man isn’t even aware that it’s even on the line.

 

Kurt smiles and Blaine’s worries and concerns are carried away helplessly, Kurt takes Blaine’s face in his hands and holds him still and firm, he looks at him with a look that makes Blaine feel strangely safe and also unsure. Kurt is unfathomable in this moment and that has never happened before, Blaine has always been able to work him out in some way, but there is something about this look, about his hold on Blaine that is silently suggesting ‘yes until further notice, but maybe also not.”

 

“Something like that.” Kurt finally says and without quite kissing him completely, he brushes their lips together and hooks his thumbs into Blaine’s belt loops on his jeans as he backs them out of the room.

 

Something, Blaine ponders, something is better than nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- To the lovely guest reviewer of the previous chapter, thank you so much, and yes there will be some of what you have requested, I hope it is in the way you are thinking.  
> To everybody else thank you and please be so kind to leave a little review if you can.


	9. Chapter 9

The last few days leading up to Christmas had been normal, normal but relaxed and enjoyable and of course casual. Kurt and Blaine share down time together, meals and snacks and drinks, they watch movies and TV shows whilst sitting side by side, thighs brushing and the occasional tangle of fingers before one of them gets up to fetch pop corn or Jes jumps up in the middle of them.  
They take walks in the park and the frost lined streets with take out hot-chocolates, they browse many a window display, occasionally nipping inside the odd store to make some small purchases. 

 

Kurt is sometimes recognised when out in busy public areas on these jaunts, but nothing that cant be handled, sometimes a quick autograph or the odd picture sends humbled fans or interested shoppers off on their way. Blaine often takes a back step when this happens, glancing around curiously, he usually offers to take the picture or provides the pen for Kurt to use from his messenger bag that Kurt had bought for him. 

 

Blaine often wonders how we would react to this, should his career in whatever the hell he wanted to achieve had taken off higher and further than it did. How would he like it, to be interrupted during sharing a sugar coated waffle in a small side bistro, or discussing the advantages of a double stitch in a narrow aisle, with his friend-personal assistant?   
Blaine certainly did not expect the time when he was dragged into a group picture too and asked a boat full of entirely too much questions about his and Kurt’s relationship. He also certainly didn’t miss the way Kurt’s face turned glacial and after one click and a flash, turned on his heel and pulled Blaine away from the small group and off towards the car. Thankfully Sam was with them that day and had valiantly doubled up as security, effectively paving an escape route for them. 

 

It’s when they’re walking back home one day with tired cold feet, hands occupied with boxes of leftovers from their lunch, a bag of cat-nip treats, and a new throw cover for the couch that Kurt already has three of but this season’s version with an intricate silver swirling pattern was a just ‘must have’, when Blaine thinks about Sam. 

 

He misses him, honestly, the two had become fast friends and of course he was very handy to have around for all car-associated needs, but also he was just very grounded for Blaine to be around.   
Sam is somebody Blaine imagines he could have became friends with back in school, they have the same boy-ish sense of humour and similar interests. Big hearts without a big enough outlet to hold them.   
They’ve been texting occasionally since Sam left for the holidays, nothing has been mentioned about what’s going on between Kurt and Blaine but Sam is not as quietly silly as he may portray himself, he’s the silent but knowing type, he gets things.

 

Blaine will never admit this aloud but he’s very aware of how Kurt’s ears will perk and prickle whenever Sam and Blaine are talking, or the way Kurt’s eyes glow darkly when he enters the living room on a late Friday or Saturday night to find them at the bar or playing poker at the kitchen island. Kurt is always invited to join, sometimes, most times he politely declines, but on the odd occasion he’ll slot himself onto a spare stool, pour a drink and join in quietly. Blaine never misses the way Kurt’s eyes dart to him when he laughs or smiles or makes a joke, there is always a look there, a look of hopeless wonder, and longing and almost a tinge of possible jealousy. 

 

Blaine thinks about this and the fact that he literally wishes Sam would just pull up to the curb in the Lexus right this instant when he blurts out, “Hey didn’t you say that you have another driver, your own personal car?” 

 

It’s not until Blaine feels like he could collapse thinking about the next few blocks they have to make in the sleet and frost-bitten pavements, that he realizes he’s never met ‘the other one’, they’ve only ever been driven by Sam.  
Kurt seems a little taken back by the question at first, his eyes raise from the ground where he’s been watching himself walk, he buries his chin into his wool checked scarf and stays quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving the ground or their walk ahead, 

 

“Yes, I did-do, but he’s more of a temp these days, nice old guy, large family all over the place, will probably go off into early retirement soon,” Kurt speaks low and quick and steadily, like its well rehearsed. Blaine nods and Kurt turns his head slightly to watch him, eyes darting back and forth, clear and sparkling in the crisp bright cool air, the tips of his ears and nose and cheeks are blushed adorably with a flush of pink from both the cool bite of wind and what Blaine supposes to be maybe a little something else. He continues before Blaine has the chance to think of some way to reply.  
“I think Sam is doing rather sufficiently dealing with us both don’t you think?”  
Blaine smirks when their eyes catch carefully and nods, “and you don’t suppose that he minds sharing?” 

 

Blaine’s grin grows wider as he tries to hide it in the upturned collar of his pea coat, he nods in understanding and Kurt nods back silently with a look of smug satisfaction and that was that, another thing to add the list of ‘ask later’. 

 

Nothing had really been discussed of Christmas itself, and the obvious plans or such, apart from the multitude of cards propped up on every available surface of the condo and the complimentary care packages that Kurt receives from his sponsors and associates and the odd super fan that feels like he really needs a mug with his own face on it, that usually remain unopened, there is no flurry of bow-strung gifts waiting under the Christmas tree.   
And Blaine gets that, after everything he’s learnt about Kurt he’d not really pin him to be the overly jolly, festive type, but that doesn’t stop him from wondering how Kurt has spent this period over the years, has Kurt truly been alone all of this time? 

 

They have a couple of loose ends to tie up in the office before everything starts to shut down and most of Kurt’s business associates and staff from all over the place head off on vacation.  
They work for just half of their normal working hours each day, never leaving the condo office unless it’s for a break and some fresh air. Kurt’s sets a rule of dressing down slightly which Blaine’s raises an eye brow at but loves. They wear slacks and jeans, sweaters and cardigans, fluffy socks and slippers and Blaine tries out Kurt’s suggestion when gelling his hair each morning, which he knows get’s a kick out of Kurt. They go over deadlines and meetings, send emails and correspondence, and events to be approved for the next New Year, all normal working stuff. 

 

Not a lot has been said or discussed in great detail throughout the day, not unless it was about Gucci’s winter collection, why Starbucks should do home deliveries and if Jester would agree to wearing a knitted coat of some kind.   
Since that fateful evening a few days back nothing has been said at all about it, nothing had been said but Kurt’s actions and the way he would look at Blaine had said it all really. Kurt had very much stuck to his word and had remained very casual about the whole thing, casual but wanting all the same. 

 

Only Blaine doesn’t think that beforehand, whenever he’d make Kurt his coffee using the stuff he’d bought, Kurt would have followed him into the kitchen, purring demands into his ear enticingly over the counter before chasing him back into the office.  
He also doesn’t think that he would have gotten away with a quick grope whilst Kurt bends over his desk pointing at something on the computer screen, and the odd nibble behind his ear, deviously pulling his concentration apart. But it’s only casual after all.

 

They haven’t gone further than that or been quite so intimate with each other again, nothing quite like that Sunday. Whenever anything was beginning to grow a little bit heated, a cell phone would beep, or Jester would meow embarrassingly loud from somewhere, or one of them would simply throw the breaks on and redirect them to their work. 

 

Blaine knows that it’s not because neither wants to ‘explore’ again, it’s quite the opposite actually. It’s a little like a game, a game of who will take the first step, if it does go further, who will stop, who will be the first to deem what is casual and what is not? Blaine does not quite trust himself and is therefore leaving everything in Kurt’s hands, he has set this rule for himself and shall remain as strict as he can. Kurt wants casual, let him be casual, let him decide.   
Blaine just hopes that he doesn’t have to wait too much longer, he doesn’t think that he can. 

 

*

 

Christmas Eve is spent in a way that Blaine has never quite spent it before.   
First of all, it’s deeply relaxed and comfortably quiet, filled with Christmas background music and old black and white feel good movies. Blaine’s nostrils are filled with the sweetest, freshest smells and the fireplace burns brightly, warm and inviting all day long. 

 

Second of all, apart from crowds of busy hurried shoppers, stressed out coffee shop staff, half drunken students and old men who have no life or care for other people’s feelings, or his disinterested self-absorbed family, Blaine isn’t actually spending the day alone.   
He doesn’t have to spend any of the holiday period alone this year, and alone as in none-human company, not the one of a human-minded feline. 

 

And best of all, Blaine is feeling utterly content, like he finally understands the meaning of Christmas. After all of this time, he has a reason to enjoy it.

 

Blaine is propped up at the kitchen counter, a glass of eggnog in one hand and a decorating tool in the other, with flushed cheeks, flour powdering his nose and loose curls and a worn, smudged apron wrapped around his hips. He’s wearing red PJ bottoms covered in candy canes and a white shirt rolled up to his elbows. He is also sporting a shit eating grin as he leans one sided against the counter whilst he watches Kurt bent at the waist, pull a metal tray fresh from the oven, laden with piping hot gingersnap cookies shaped like snowmen. 

 

Kurt is wearing blue PJ bottoms dotted with tiny white and silver snowflakes, they were gifts from their tailor and were told to open them on the Twenty-Forth, he’s also wearing a navy turtleneck folded up his forearms, which wraps around the column of his slender throat beautifully, and a long apron draped over the top.

 

Kurt straightens up and approaches Blaine at the counter with a roll of his eyes and a disobedient smirk playing on his lips. He bats at Blaine’s hand when he tries to reach out to him, unsure whether it was towards the tray or just Kurt himself. Jester winds himself through Kurt’s legs with a pitiful mewl and Blaine snaps his fingers at him to get him to back off. 

 

Kurt empties the cookies onto a cooling rack and bends over the counter next to Blaine, dragging over a small glass dish of sugar coated drops and shapes and chocolate buttons.  
“Ok, so you need to- stop that-” He swats at Blaine’s hand when he rises the frosting tool up and steps towards him, aiming for his nose with a tongue sticking out mischievously.  
“You need to carefully trace this edge here with the- hey cut it out-” Kurt laughs and backs away. “Concentrate Mr Anderson, where is your professionalism-”

 

“Oh, so you want professionalism,” Blaine laughs at Kurt’s feigned expression of dismissal, “Ok got it.” He squares his shoulders and sticks out his chin, barely hiding his smirk as he sets about his task and Kurt’s laughs quietly, nudging into his side playfully. 

 

Hour’s later when the sky outside is a midnight blue, flurried with snow, they’re huddled on the floor in between the two couches in the living room, legs stretched out in front of the crackling log burning fire, seeking warmth from both the glowing embers of the live flames and of the ones alight in each others eyes. They drink mulled wine and eat Blaine’s speciality spicy tomato soup and tear off shares of Kurt’s baked bread rolls.   
Jester is sprawled by their feet, sleeping soundly and stealing as much of the warmth from the hearth that he can. They eat in a pleasant silence, occasionally laughing at what ever is playing quietly up on the TV screen, and then proceed to chew on the recently decorated snowmen treats, bickering over who did the best job. Afterwards when the dishes have been cleaned away Blaine stretches out on the floor, arms tucked behind his head and his bare toes burying under Jes’s warm furry body, who whines in annoyance but doesn’t move.

 

Kurt flops onto the couch behind him, one leg dangling down, his slipper just brushing lightly against Blaine’s forearm. “Do you have some kind of an aversion to the couch or something? I swear you actually used to be a cat in your past life.”

 

Blaine tilts his chin and peeks up behind him with a grin, he tickles Kurt’s ankle until he moves out of reach. “I like it up there, when you’re up there.” 

 

“That was not an invitation.” Kurt’s eyes are closed, head back but Blaine can see the upturn of his lips, he can hear the smile in his voice, and the possible hinting tone of a lie, the possible hint of ‘actually yes it was an invitation, so don’t make me say it aloud and get up here.” 

 

Blaine wonders what Kurt would do if Blaine did actually just leap up there and join him, press himself against him and bury himself, loose himself in Kurt’s clean smelling skin and soft hair, in his embrace, he wonders how Kurt will react to that.

 

The truth is he actually thinks, in fact he’s pretty certain he knows, that Kurt would welcome it, he would revel in it. He can already feel Kurt carding his fingers through his curls which Blaine has come to realise he absolutely loves doing and Blaine has no problem with that at all. He can already feel Kurt’s long legs wrapping around him and his strong arms holding him firmly in place.   
What frightens Blaine, what’s refraining him now from getting up and doing and having what he really wants, is the fear that Kurt will eventually tell him to stop, that Kurt will eventually stop himself and deny each other of what’s real and what’s true. Because Blaine never wants it to stop, and that is the problem he was already aware of before this whole thing had started.   
Maybe he’s asking too much, though he hasn’t actually asked or said anything aloud at all, maybe he’ll be waiting a looong time for Kurt to spell it out, maybe once again he’s over thinking it all.

 

Blaine thinks about this for a moment when Jester turns over on his side, digs his claws into Blaine’s ankle during a stretch, causing him to flinch, pull his legs up and sit up. He rubs at his leg, turning his head to find Kurt watching him with wide eyes, and parted lips, his arms are draped over his head, he looks excited almost like he’s anticipating something. 

 

It’s Christmas, let’s be casual…

 

Blaine twists round and crawls towards the couch, coming to stop and crouch just in front of where Kurt’s head is resting on the arm of the chair. Kurt can barely contain a lopsided grin as Blaine leans in, noses almost brushing playfully, “Hi,” he breathes.

 

“Hi.” Kurt whispers back, eyes glowing from the embers burning brightly behind, there’s twinkling flashes of red and blues reflecting on his beautiful pale face from the string of lights wrapped around the Christmas tree. Blaine could just take a photograph of this moment right now, he needs to mentally hold on to this feeling, he feels like a kid creeping down the stairs early in the morning, wondering if the big guy in red has been. 

 

“It’s Christmas in like,” Blaine tilts his head to look at Kurt’s watch, buckled around his left wrist above his head, “three hours.”

 

“It is.” Kurt replies with a look of serious amusement, voice deep and low, he pulls an arm out from behind his head, he curls his fingers around the back of Blaine’s neck, scratching lazily through his curls as a shiver runs up Blaine’s spine and pulls him in, closing the distance. “It’s now, official vacation time, how do you wish to spend it Mr Anderson?” Kurt asks against Blaine’s lips.

 

Blaine closes his eyes and kisses back, he kisses Kurt soft and slow, fighting to bite back the hum of pleasure he wants to moan in to it and his body threatening to buckle underneath him. Finally. Blaine needs this, he’s needed this ever since he had Kurt under his touch, and in his mouth and his hands, he will always need this.   
“With you.” Blaine finally replies, honestly and with utter conviction, between each gentle teasing brush of lips, “Just, with you.”

 

“That can be arranged.” Kurt whispers back with a small smile, he curls his fingers around Blaine’s biceps and pulls him up alongside of him on the couch. Blaine automatically curls himself inwards, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning down, almost draping himself half over Kurt. 

 

“Tell me though,” Blaine trails kisses down Kurt’s cheek, stopping just as he reaches the hinge of his jaw, it’s best not to get too excited too fast. “How would you have spent it, if I wasn’t here? What would you be doing?” Kurt smiles a little, never taking his eyes off of Blaine looking down at him. 

 

“Well,” Kurt leans up on his elbows slightly, “I have a holiday home over in England-”

“In the UK?” Blaine asks impressed, but really he shouldn’t be so surprised.

 

“Yeah, I haven’t been for a while though-”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“I guess I couldn’t really find the time to go after a while, or a good enough reason to.” Blaine hums and brushes his toes against Kurt’s, storing that information away for another time. A winter getaway on the other side of the ocean, with Kurt, sounds too amazing. 

 

“What do you do when you stay here?”

 

“This.” Kurt says quietly and smirks, arms curling behind his head again as he stretches lazily and causing Blaine to shift beside him, “…minus one... of course.” Blaine’s chest gives a dull thud, other people involved in the more ‘intimate areas’ of Kurt’s life is still something that he knows nothing about.   
Is he privileged enough to be the only one to share this side of Kurt? Surely not.

 

“Are you always left alone? No Sam or Santana?”

 

“Sam always goes back to Ohio whenever he gets the chance, he’s a home boy through and through. Santana and I tried vacationing together a few years ago, almost ended in bloodshed, we need the time apart.” Blaine laughed at Kurt’s serious expression and Kurt broke out into a grin. 

 

“What do you eat for Christmas dinner?” Blaine knows the most obvious question to ask is whether Kurt has ever been back to Ohio for Christmas, whether he sees and spends the time with any of his family, but Blaine also knows that it’s the most obvious answer that he’s most likely not going to get. He also knows that Kurt knows exactly where he’s going with this.

 

Kurt smirks and brushes a curl back behind Blaine’s ear, “Whatever take out place will be open and available to my every beck and call, the Greek restaurant around the corner and I have become fond friends over the festive period, they send a greetings card.”

 

Blaine turns his head and bites lightly into the pad of Kurt’s finger which he’s trailing down his face, tickling his unruly stubble which he has been allowing to grow for the past couple of days. “Sounds good.”

 

“It is, tell me about you Blaine, why are you here right now-” Oh he wants to play this game, now.

 

“Are you being serious?” Blaine rests an arm over Kurt’s chest and taps his fingers lightly up and down his sternum playfully. It is no longer any secret all between them, the want that Blaine has for Kurt, and Kurt’s shared feelings are slowly appearing from the woodwork. But this is not a question directed as to why Blaine is currently squeezed onto a couch with Kurt, flirting and beating around the bush like teenagers, they both are fully aware of this.   
Kurt nods, amusement lighting his eyes.

 

“Very, I get how things are with you and your parents and that brother of yours but, what would you usually be doing? You don’t talk about your friends much, or at all even.” Kurt’s words are quiet and low, eyes hooded and careful as they search Blaine’s face.

 

“Have you met my cat?” Kurt laughs and shakes his head, nudging into Blaine’s side playfully with a bent knee, Blaine resists the urge to duck down and steal another kiss, and then another and another just to distract and direct Kurt off course of the conversation he knows is about to happen. He’s surprised it hasn’t been brought up sooner, but honestly Kurt deserves to ask, he’s already trusted Blaine enough with parts of his private life. And Blaine has never been able to deny Kurt anything. 

 

“I um, I didn’t stay in touch with that many of my buddies after school or college, I mean I roomed with some of them, and we performed together, travelled over half of the country desperately seeking work and I loved it, but I uh, I guess that I became too focused on my career and when the opportunity opened up for me to move out and in to my own place I took it without looking back because I thought that was what you were supposed to do-”

 

“Supposed to do what?”

 

“Take chances.”

 

“And you don’t keep in touch?”

 

“We did for a while, I get the odd group text or joke now and then, everybody just goes their own way eventually you know.”

 

“Friends are important Blaine, even I know that.” Blaine purses his lips and nods a little, he’s not very open to the idea of having this conversation, not right now. Blaine fully believes that friends are people who can wade in and out of your life at different times, there are friends for each stage of your life, each new beginning and opportunity. Blaine has new friends now, he has a new beginning.

 

Kurt seems to pick up the fact that he’s not going to get much else out of Blaine, it’s not often the tables are turned like this. 

 

“Don’t you still feel that way?” The question is spoken very calmly and seriously, Kurt is in no way judging him, he’s generally curious, his eyes are soft and his heart beats hard and strong under Blaine’s hands.

 

“What way?”

 

“About taking chances.” Blaine thinks about the question, really thinks about it, and the truth is yes, he still is taking chances, that’s all he’s ever done really, whether he’s supposed to or not.   
Only now the situations are different. Now there appears to be more at stake, when at one time Blaine would have never believed anything could come before his love of music and performing and even his old pals.   
But he continues nonetheless as always to trust and to feel, and to take life’s endless chances that are thrown at him whether he’s expecting them or not.

 

Blaine looks back to Kurt, eyes soft and warm, he takes a breath, but Kurt is already shifting, pulling his arms out from behind his head and wrapping them around Blaine’s shoulders, Kurt already knows the answer, he can see it in the depths of Blaine’s golden green eyes, he already knows what Blaine is just about ready to pour out. 

 

Blaine clears his throat, the intensity and the warmth in Kurt’s gaze and what seeps through his clothes and skin is enough to knock him breathless. Now is not the time to dwell or doubt, or even think, now is the time to act and savour and have, he doesn’t know how long this time will last.   
He swallows and when he speaks again his voice is low and rasped, tinged with want and need and a trace of humour. 

 

“Do uh, does that Greek place you mentioned serve Halloumi?”

 

Kurt rolls his eyes as he grasps Blaine’s chin with two fingers, smiling that half a smirk that sends gooseflesh running through the short hairs on Blaine’s arms and legs, Kurt tugs him down as he nods, their noses brushing, “Mmhmm, with pretty much everything.” 

 

“Sounds perfect, sounds delicious actually.” Kurt sucks Blaine’s bottom lip between his own and hums responsively.

 

“It will be.”

 

*

 

Blaine huffs a silent laugh at the old comedy rerun that’s playing quietly over on the TV, it’s a Christmas classic, he can mouth the words with perfect timing. He picks up his phone over on the night stand and looks at the time, he thumbs over the screen watching all of the early generic Christmas messages on each of the social networking sites he’s signed up to flood in one by one.   
Both the small screen in his hand and the large screen over on the wall casts a blue-ish light into his dark bedroom, highlighting his bare chest and arms and face as he lies in bed propped up against the headboard. 

 

Jester snores lightly by his feet at the bottom of the bed and Blaine is actually a little envious of him and how relaxed he seems. Blaine’s tired yes, but sleep seems to be far from his list of his priorities. Blaine is not sleepless and a little restless because he is excited for what day it will be in a little under thirty minute’s time. Anticipation thrums and vibrates under his skin and bones, because of what he is hopeful might happen in the very next instance.

 

The toilet chain flushes from behind the closed door of his en suite, Blaine flicks his phone off and slides it carelessly back onto the little side table. The door creaks open and the slither of light from under the door shuts off just as Blaine politely nudges Jester’s curled up body with his covered foot, gently persuading him to get up and off and into his own bed where hopefully he will become none the wiser to what may or may not happen in moments to come. 

 

Kurt pads out of Blaine’s bathroom with an impish grin on his face and a slight blush to his cheeks. Blaine smiles as he comes closer to the bed and pulls back a corner of the quilt beside him. Kurt is still dressed in his Christmas Eve PJ bottoms as is Blaine, but their shirts had been removed shortly after the second round of making-out had occurred whilst downstairs on the couch. 

 

“Remind me why I’m here.” Kurt says with smile as he slides a little hesitantly into Blaine’s bed under the covers, their bare shoulders brush and Blaine feels like he may have to sit on his own hands to keep himself from turning and pinning Kurt down to his mattress.   
Kurt is in his fucking bed. Shirtless. 

 

“Because it’s Christmas Eve, it’s exciting.” 

 

“Bullshit.” Blaine doesn’t have to look at Kurt to see the amusement and happiness in his features, he can hear it, he can feel the giddiness flowing through Kurt beside him, even though he still may be a little tense, this whole situation is very weird after all but what hasn’t been weird between them? 

 

Yes, it was Blaine’s idea for Kurt to come and take part in a little Christmas Eve tradition of his that he had started as a kid, but he didn’t think that Kurt would actually agree to it.   
Things had been steaming up quite nicely downstairs but neither man still seemed willing to bridge the gap, shirts were discarded, socks and slippers were wriggled out of, hair had been raked through and pulled at but pants were still attached, give or take the odd pull and grope here and there. 

 

When Blaine finally climbed off of Kurt and rose to his feet he didn’t know whether to laugh elatedly or whimper and the crestfallen look Kurt was throwing at him from where he was stretched out below like some kind of Greek god.  
Blaine doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kurt quite so eager when he stuck his hand out in offering and asked if he wanted to join him in the countdown until midnight. 

 

Blaine tries to think why it was so easy for Kurt that Sunday, so easy to just let Blaine see him and have like that, so intimately, what is so different now, why is Kurt so reluctant to take it that far again. Because it’s as obvious as the sky is blue how much he wants him, no matter how much he tries to cover it or won’t verbally admit it.  
Blaine has to try and stir things up a little, if Kurt was going to constantly remain stubborn about this than Blaine should consider taking the reins a little.   
And if not on Christmas, then when? 

 

Kurt turns over on to his side, pressing his face into Blaine’s spare pillow, his hair crumbling from its style in all directions. He looks so good, too good right now in Blaine’s bed and Blaine still cant quite comprehend that this is actually happening.

 

“I still think that this was just some kind of rouse to get me here.” Kurt says playfully. 

 

Blaine knocks off the TV using the remote and places it beside his phone, the screen shuts off and plunges them into a sudden darkness, save for the wedge of moonlight that is peeking from behind the heavy snow clouds, out behind Blaine’s bedroom window where the curtains don’t quite meet.   
Blaine mirrors Kurt’s position and has to take a moment to just look at him, pale and slender, with hooded eyes and parted lips curling into a smirk. His arms bare and thick and muscled are curled around Blaine’s blanket and his toned chest is peeking out over the top, Blaine could get used to this. 

 

“What if I said that you’re not wrong?” Blaine says quietly, his foot slowly moving sideways under the covers, cold toes gently brushing against Kurt’s, causing him to gasp.

 

“I’d say that I know I’m not wrong and that I can’t say that I care at all, actually.” Kurt pushes his leg out, his knee bumping with Blaine’s until his thigh is lying thick and heavy on top of Blaine’s. The hems of their pants ride up and the bristle of their course leg hairs rasping together is an all too delicious sensation. 

 

“What if I said I’ve been waiting, waiting to have you here, in my bed.” Blaine tilts his hips, and places a hand on Kurt’s side, gently pulling him closer, Kurt takes the hint and moves further on top of Blaine. The thick tell-tale swells of their crotches push together, lining up and Blaine’s breathes grittily into Kurt’s neck, mouthing at rapidly warming skin. 

 

“I-I’d say that- I’d ask rather-what’s been stopping you?” Kurt breathes into the side of Blaine’s head, he nuzzles into the soft curls at his temple, his fingers curling in and out and their hips move lazily. Blaine lifts his hands and angles Kurt’s face to look at him at best as they can in the pale light of the room. Kurt looks breath taking on top of him, eyes like silvery blue pools.

 

“Y-you, you have. I know what we said, what we agreed on and where we’re at, what we’re doing or not doing for that matter, b-but I-I don’t know what-” Kurt sits up suddenly, straddling Blaine’s hips and gripping his face on either side.

 

“I have fun with you Blaine, you make me forget, you make me different, I-I often feel like I don’t know how to be sometimes, how to act and I don’t even care most of the time, but with you I-I try, you make me want to try, you make me like this, I feel free with you and-and, I’m hard work and stubborn, I am what I am, just-just don’t give up on me, please, try not to give up on me just yet.”   
Blaine sits up, wrapping his arms tight around Kurt’s thick shoulders as he perches in his lap.

 

“I won’t Kurt, I promise-” Never.

 

“You can tell me no, I may be asking a lot from you, you’re a wonderful man Blaine and I may be- may be I’m too selfish with you, but I-I just- you can tell me no-”

 

Never. Blaine doesn’t think he could ever say no to Kurt, he doesn’t know how. His mind is whirring, his chest thumping, he cant think straight, he should take this more seriously, he should be listening intently but he cant give this up he cant risk what he has already within his grasp.  
Blaine’s hands skim down Kurt’s sides, his fingers landing on the sunken waistline of his blue pyjama pants, “Just shut up and kiss me Kurt, get back down here and just…kiss me.” 

 

Kurt smiles into the kiss, all tongue and teeth and breathless pants, he knocks Blaine back down into the pillows, fingers and hands fumbling. “What about your tradition?”

 

“Screw that-” Blaine licks a trail from Kurt neck downwards, he nips at his chest, sucks a perk nipple into his mouth as Kurt groans beneath him, hands roaming and mapping, marking their territory. 

 

“Blaine?”

 

“Huh?” Blaine moves his hands down to Kurt’s ass, squeezing firmly, pulling him in, impossibly closer and tighter.

 

“Merry Christmas.” Blaine stops, his movements slow and his hips fall back down to the mattress, his hands move up to Kurt’s face and gently caress, a thumb stroking over his lip. Kurt looks down at him, with wide bright eyes, and a look that Blaine cant quite place, its one of those looks, one of those smiles that Blaine feels like he needs to keep his very own ‘Kurt Journal’ for. Blaine’s life may possibly never be the same again because of this curious, beautiful man on top of him, watching him with a eyes that Blaine will never forget, and a curl of lips that Blaine will never get enough of. 

 

A deep, strong need grows in the pit of Blaine’s belly, firing its way up and in to his chest, desire mixed with a flair of hope is possibly the most dangerous cocktail, but it’s too late now, it’s much too late for anything now.  
Kurt whether willingly or not and very much without intention is slowly starting to unfurl, the ice in his chest thawing.   
And Blaine can see it, he can feel it, and he’s not going to let Kurt stop now. 

 

“Merry Christmas, Kurt.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Here’s a sneaky little extra long, extra special early update. The big One-Zero. Hope you enjoy : )

 

Blaine remembers as a child, waking up on Christmas morning at an ungodly hour in his dark childhood bedroom, alone in his bed with freezing feet and toes from where he kicked his socks off through the night. He’d wake up shivering from both the cool air in the small room and the anticipation and excitement running through him.

 

It’s a little bit like that now, his stomach is dancing right down to the pit, his abs and thighs are quivering, he cannot keep his hands still beside him on the mattress, only it’s not because he’s feeling a little cold. He doesn’t know what time it is now, doesn’t particularly care, but the city outside of his window is awake and alive as always, with car horns and sirens and bells and far off music sounding out off in the distance. The winter sun is trying it’s best to leak through a cracked opening in the drapes and filter dusky grey light through the depths of the room and up on to the bed.

 

Two large clammy palms clamp down onto each of Blaine’s thriving hips, he jolts with the feel of cool nimble fingers sliding against his heated skin, his toes curl into the sheet covered mattress and his head thrashes back and forth on his pillow. His hair is in absolute disarray, scattered gorgeously in dark ringlets all around. Not once when he was younger did he ever think that he would wake up like this on Christmas morning, not once did he think that the excitement of knowing that there is a room full of gifts waiting for you, could be topped. Not like this.

 

Kurt’s head pops up from under the covers, he wriggles his shoulders and the blanket drops and slides down his chiselled back, falling to where his hips meet his creamy thick roped thighs where he’s positioned between Blaine’s parted bent legs. His eyes are a like a stormy sea and bright like the clearing afterwards, he’s wearing a sinful smirk as he licks his lips and brushes some hair up off of his face. Blaine ducks his chin and manages to catch a quick glance of him through hooded dark eyes and fanned lashes before Kurt lowers his head once more, his hands tightening their hold on Blaine’s sides.

 

“Oh-oh my god K-Kurt-” Blaine is barely awake he can feel the small crusts of sleep lingering in the corners of his eyes as he tries to blink them open wider through the constant fluttering. His voice is scratched and rough and he can feel the rumble in his chest with each moan and inhale as is body pushed and pulled and teased into a state of complete pleasure.  
Waking up hard is one thing, waking up hard and in somebody’s mouth whilst being lapped up by a long relentless tongue and soft wet cushioned lips is another thing altogether. 

 

“Good morning and Merry Christmas.” Blaine barely hears Kurt’s muffled words through breathy pants and wet licks and lashes below, but he feels them, he feels them roll off of Kurt’s tongue and pulse against aching cock.

 

“Ffuuck,” Blaine tries to twist his hips, it’s just so much, but Kurt keeps him anchored to the bed, “d-don’t say that.”

 

“Don’t say what?” Blaine can hear the tease in Kurt’s high breathy voice, he can feel the smile and the delicious graze of teeth against his throbbing erection.

 

“M-erry, shit, C-Christmas, don’t say that when you’re doing th-at to me,” He tries to buck again, “God Kurt feels so good, you feel so, so good.” Kurt pulls off with a slick pop in just enough time to bark a laugh. 

 

“Oh my god, you’re crazy, why cant I say that when I’m doing this to you?” He smirks as he ducks his head and sucks a kiss to the juncture of Blaine’s thigh, licking a pathway, he rolls Blaine’s balls gently with the fingers of one hand and swipes the pad of his thumb of his free hand through the leaking pearly drops of pre-come on the head of Blaine’s flushed cock. 

 

Blaine can’t even think, he doesn’t even know what he was saying or why, all he knows is that he needs to come, he can feel the pressure build from bottom upwards, the tremble in his skin and bones growing more intense and he needs Kurt’s undivided attention wholly and fully and now. He doesn’t know how long Kurt had been working him over before he finally rose to full wakefulness, but he knows that he isn’t going to last very long at all, he wants to feel Kurt all around him, in him and on him, and just everywhere.  
“Shit, I don’t even know, please, please don’t stop, I’m close, I’m cl-”

 

Kurt uses the pad of his thumb now slick with a creamy white substance, to trail down lower, he flicks his wrist once as he goes, causing Blaine to whimper and continues downwards. He tilts his fist and his knuckles graze the sensitive taut skin over Blaine’s ball sack and down again until his thumb finally reaches the rough dry puckering of Blaine’s hole between two soft round cheeks. 

 

Blaine bucks up, pushing his straining leaking cock up into nothing but thick curling hot air between them as Kurt’s moist thumb circles his entrance one way and then the other before pushing in gently and achingly slow. Blaine groans low and gritty, pushing breaths out through a clenched jaw, he can’t hide, there is no way of denying how much he loves this, loves the feel of something, someone, inside of him. Especially the fact that it’s Kurt. He’s glad that Kurt has taken it upon himself to explore and find this out for himself, he cant wait to do some exploring of his own, Blaine loves to give just as much as he loves to take, in all aspects of his life, but there’s a time and a place and a mood, and Blaine just needs this right now, exactly this.

 

“You love this don’t you?” Once again, even in the throes of passion the two are perfectly in sync, Blaine would huff out a laugh if he didn’t already have trouble breathing. Kurt’s voice has dropped an octave, he even sounds like sex and a little in awe as he pushes and pulls in and out of Blaine in steady rhythmic movements. Blaine moans, bites his lip and cracks open his eyes to see Kurt sitting up and staring down at his own hand, watching very carefully, with pink cheeks and wide glistening eyes. 

 

After a few more easy ins and outs, Blaine’s hole opening and clenching and welcoming the feel of Kurt’s thumb, Kurt sucks two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits a few times to make sure they’re nice and wet before removing his thumb and replacing it with two long fingers. Blaine squirms, crying out, huffing out breaths and juicy sounds and mumbles as Kurt slots his fingers side by side and up and down. It’s a little dry and a little rough, and maybe a small helping of lube may have been a little more polite, but it’s perfect all the same and Blaine is soon grunting deliciously, thrusting, his hole fluttering easily with each movement that Kurt makes. 

 

“Oh yes, oh god yes.”

 

Kurt scissors inside slightly and grins devilishly when the tip of his index finger brushes against the soft squelch of a small bundle of nerves and Blaine almost bounces up and off of the bed with a sinful curse. He’s got him.

 

With this newly acquired find Kurt settles himself comfortably on his knees, moves his free hand to Blaine’s abandoned cock and strokes him hard and fast in a tight fist as his two fingers continues to prod and tease and tickle that sensitive spot inside of Blaine. Blaine’s hips move on their own accord, sliding and grinding with ease, there are dots of black and grey behind his scrunched eye lids and he can feel his knuckles fading white from where they’re grounded into the mattress and sheets.

 

“Shit, Kurt, yes, there-there, oh fuck-” Blaine is sobbing brokenly, his chest heaving up and down, if he could open his eyes he would see Kurt licking his lips, flushed skin and hooded eyes clouded with lust. 

 

“That’s it, come on Blaine, that’s it.” 

 

Kurt squeezes his fist around Blaine’s cock, and pushes the tips of his fingers inside Blaine deeper, brushing back and forth, once twice and then Blaine is suddenly keening and spilling, hot and thick over his fist, growling and whining wildly.  
“C-coming, I-I’m coming, Jesus-” 

 

Kurt pumps him through it, as Blaine lifts his ass and hips to meet each pull, Kurt’s fingers slide back and forth in quick flicks until he pulls them out altogether when Blaine finally slumps down onto the mattress, after the last spurt from his cock, his knees buckling and legs collapsing on either side. 

 

Blaine breathes deeply for a few silent moments with his hands clasped together against his chest, just missing the sticky residue pooling below. His eyes flutter open as he starts to soften and feels the mattress dip and move around him, he turns his face to the side and blinks open more widely to see Kurt reaching over him to grab a few tissues from the box on the night stand. Blaine weakly takes them from Kurt’s hand with a muttered thanks and wipes at himself, he barely flicks the balled up tissues up in to the air and across the room and is astonished that they actually reach the waste basket. 

 

Kurt lowers himself down onto the pillows beside Blaine on his side and leans on one elbow, watching him with a quite a smug expression.  
“Holy hell Kurt-just wow.” Blaine instantly reaches out for him, a wolfish grin on his face with liquid hazel eyes but is stopped when Kurt places a hand to his chest and pushes him back down, trailing a finger in to the dents of his ribcage. Blaine scrunches a brow, looking a little put out and worried.

 

“You-don’t, don’t you want-” Blaine’s eyes drop momentarily down to where Kurt is now shielded from view by the covers, he curls a palm around his waist questionably. 

 

Kurt smiles around a small bite of his bottom lip, whilst shaking his head lightly, his cheeks are blushed gorgeously and his eyes are positively alight. He looks like he could just pounce on Blaine, just have him, devour him and Blaine would totally let him. Yet still he says some what hesitantly, with a rasp, “I-I’m good, I promise, you took pretty good care of me last night.” 

 

It’s true, Blaine had, just after midnight Kurt had been pleasantly reunited with the feel of Blaine’s warm wet tongue and the rough of his guitar playing-calloused hands. The activities had been so strenuous and responsive from both parties, and the resulting orgasm that Kurt had been treated with, had been so heavy and explosive that even Blaine had fallen asleep almost instantly without succumbing to his own pleasure. But that doesn’t mean that Kurt owed him anything now. Blaine would happily take care of Kurt over and over again, without so much as a plea or beg. Blaine can gain simple pleasure from giving or taking, that’s just who he is. 

 

Blaine smiles lazily and nods after a beat, he’s smart and still tired enough not to argue. Kurt is a man who knows what he wants and is not afraid to let that be known, most of the time, that doesn’t mean that Blaine doesn’t want to argue though. Blaine swallows past the dry of his throat and is about to speak when Kurt adds lowly, “Plus, there’s always later right?” 

 

Blaine grins with the corner of his mouth lazily, he’s still wondering if he’s in some sort of dream state. He’s also stuck in a silent quandary with himself over whether to lean in and kiss Kurt, morning breath is obviously a thing and he just doesn’t know whether Kurt would care enough about it.  
Instead he asks, “So what was that for?” And then mentally kicks himself, as if Kurt needs a reason, he especially doesn’t want Kurt to think that he actually does need a reason. Idiot.

 

Kurt smirks, “It’s Christmas, Merry Christmas, or am I still not allowed to say that to you?” Blaine laughs and rolls onto his back, his head still turned facing Kurt.

 

“Well thank you, and Merry Christmas to you too.” Kurt smiles again, this time a little more carefree, he looks far too gorgeous, his hair sweat slick and sticking up in all directions, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Blaine really wants to kiss him, he would give anything to kiss him right now. 

 

“Do you have any traditions for Christmas morning? I feel bad, we seemed to forgo what you had planned last night-” Blaine grins and rolls a little more inward.

 

“Yes, you should feel bad, although, I could forgive you should you agree to my tradition of a Christmas kiss.” 

 

“A kiss?” Kurt asks probably a little more breathy than he would have intended or liked, an eye brow quirked amusingly. 

 

“A traditional Christmas kiss.” Blaine says, an almost whisper with smouldering eyes.

 

“But where’s the mistletoe?” Kurt’s eyes are glowing in his pale face, looking almost radiant, he ducks his chin moving his face closer to Blaine’s on their separate pillows, he lowers his voice. “There must be mistletoe for a Christmas kiss, you see.”

 

“I see.” Kurt’s lips are parted and pink and plump and they’re just there, right there, Blaine could just tug them between his teeth and Kurt would probably not argue.

 

“Do you think you can do that?” 

 

If one look can set a person’s soul soaring, or a flurry of gooseflesh or butterflies scattering, it’s definitely the look that Kurt is giving Blaine right now, so determined, so innocent, so utterly captivating. Blaine is lost, lost in the barely spoken exchange of words between them and the fix of Kurt’s gaze, of what he’s saying, of what he’s asking beyond the bluey-green orbs.

 

“For you, yes, of course.” The ‘anything’ at the end of that sentence goes unspoken between them but not unheard.  
But the words ‘everything’ and ‘always’ are just for Blaine’s head alone, for now.

 

*

 

The rest of the day seems to pass much quicker than either of them is expecting, after discovering it’s a little before nine am, they eventually agree to exit Blaine’s bed with mutual pressing needs to use the bathroom facilities. Kurt lingers in Blaine’s doorway, with his PJ bottoms reattached and hanging low on his hips, he stares at Blaine hotly, who is left sprawled out on his bed against the pillows and after another beat disappears with a plan to see him downstairs shortly and a rule of loungewear only.

 

Once showered and dressed in clean underwear, a fresh pair of PJ’s and a navy towelling robe over the top, Blaine combs through his hair and decides to forgo any hair products completely, feeling emboldened and proud.  
He decides to quickly check his phone before heading downstairs, and finds that there’s a few group texts, some automated emails and the all too similar updates on the popular networking sites. Blaine rarely uses the sites, not any more, but he stills likes to have a little look now and then at what’s going on.

 

Blaine isn’t surprised at all that there aren’t any messages from his parents yet, Cooper will probably send him some sort of lewd, cheesy message later on and maybe he’ll call and they’ll laugh about it for a little while. Blaine knows that he should make the effort to visit his parents some time, it’s not their fault that they are the way they are, he’s just honestly enjoying himself too much right now, and he knows it’s because he doesn’t have to listen to their opinions and their dampened view of the world. He sends them both a quick message, filled with Christmas love and wishes and then switches his phone off and throws it down on the bed. 

 

Blaine enters the living room to find Jes sitting on the edge of the couch, he must have got out when Kurt had left earlier, his bushy tail is wrapped around himself and he’s watching Blaine eagerly with pointed ears as he comes closer. Blaine leans in to offer a scratch between his ears when a bright glint catches his eye as Jes turns to lean into Blaine’s touch. 

 

Blaine gently fingers the new collar that sits snugly around Jes’s furry neck, it’s suede and so soft to the touch as Blaine rubs the thin lightweight material between two fingers. The bright jade green compliments both the dusky shade of Jes’s grey fur coat and the aqua sparkle of his eyes perfectly, the lining is stitched seamlessly with intricate dots of sparkling stones and lined with a type of fleece on the inside.  
It’s exquisite and Blaine doesn’t think he’d find anything quite like it in any old pet store, it’s then when he notices the small rounded metal disc dangling from the centre of the collar, just brushing the slightly lighter fur of Jester’s front. 

 

Blaine takes the disc between his fingers and leans in closer to read the beautifully engraved curved letters. On the front has Jester’s name inscribed and underneath the condo’s zip code, Blaine feels his heart thud in his chest his stomach swooping with the small gesture and thought. Jester is house trained but sometimes he does like a little fresh air out on the patio, or the balcony or on a windows ledge, and what if he did curiously chase a bird one day or make friends with a fellow neighbourhood cat, Blaine had never considered the fact that Jester wasn’t familiar with his new home and surrounding areas, though it has been eight months now.

 

Blaine turns the disc delicately in his fingers and smiles widely at the small familiar letters that make up Kurt’s logo that he uses for his designs and business ventures. “Merry Christmas huh Buddy, I guess this is a better gift than the catnip mouse that’s wrapped up under the tree for you, which by the way I’m surprised that’s still there in one piece-” 

 

“Do you like it, is it ok? I-I’m sorry, I guess I should have maybe asked you first or something, it’s just that-” Blaine startles and lets the collar slip from his fingers as he straightens to see Kurt approaching him from the kitchen, he didn’t even realise he was over there.

 

“It’s beautiful Kurt, why are you apologising, thank you for making that for him, I hope it didn’t take up too much of your time-” Kurt waves a dismissive hand as he comes to stand next to Blaine and Jes who is looking up at them proudly.

 

“My pleasure, I just I get these ideas sometimes and I lose myself in these little challenges and-and I think it’s safe to say that I’ve become quite attached, to um him.” Their eyes meet in a quick flash and Blaine leans in and presses a fleeting kiss to Kurt’s cheek, his warm lips linger a little over the scratchy light stubble of his jaw as he finds Kurt’s hand with two fingers and offers a quick gentle squeeze. Kurt turns his head to meet Blaine lips just as Blaine backs away with a small smirk.

 

“I thought we had a deal.” Kurt narrows his blue sparkling eyes and Blaine can tell that he’s fighting to keep the humour off of his face.

 

“Ok.” Kurt says quietly and nods, he turns on his heel and positively struts back towards the kitchen. He’s wearing pale blue linen pyjama pants which cling to every curve and line of his ass completely and a tight t-shirt wrapped clad around his chest and arms. He’s thought very carefully about that outfit, Blaine just knows.  
Blaine licks his lips and follows him into the kitchen where Kurt is already preparing two mugs of coffee with the biggest grin on his face.

 

They share a breakfast made up of toasted waffles, left over cookies and constant refills of coffee. They watch in amusement as Jester rolls around on the floor in a pile of gift wrap and bows and ribbons, he’s already ripped open the toy mouse and the other small treats that Blaine had wrapped for him and this is the result. Blaine helps Kurt open some of the packages that had been sent from fans and work associates, and Kurt let’s Blaine keep the travel mug with his face on it. 

 

Blaine grins bashfully when Kurt opens up the small box that Blaine had made for him, a box of ‘stress free’ items such as a soothing eye mask, bottles of lavender bathing gels and creams, smelling salts and a squeeze-y stress ball that gets thrown at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused grin. Blaine is almost hysterical when he unwraps the set of personalized dictionaries and thesaurus’s that Kurt had gotten him, and throws a cushion in Kurt’s general direction. The small play fight results in a half assed attempt at a tickle fight and quick chaste cheek kisses, as both men are still upholding ‘the Christmas kiss’ challenge apparently. 

 

Gifts, or more specifically a gift for Kurt, is something that Blaine had been thinking about since around October. He wouldn’t have felt right not getting anything for Kurt at all, and he also didn’t know how he felt about giving him something with extreme sentimental value, even though Blaine’s heart was screaming at him to do so. But just like everything else when it comes to the two of them, it had seemed to work out perfectly, once again the two had been singing from the same song book, and Blaine felt giddy with it all. 

 

They watch TV and look for new words with Blaine’s gift, Blaine shows Kurt an old favourite movie and Kurt makes Blaine watch clips of different musicals online. They swap childhood stories, what was their favourite gift and toy and who can build the best snowman, if only the snow outside was laying a little more thickly so that they could put their money where their mouths are. Kurt teaches Blaine a new card game and they take great pleasure in trying to teach Jes how to play dead, and when Blaine has his back turned in the kitchen, whilst fixing them a rather strong mulled wine, he manages to catch a glimpse of Kurt using some of his ‘deep chill’ hand moisturiser. They snack and graze on junk food pretty much the whole day until the sky darkens again and their stomachs rumble for the need of something more substantial. 

 

The take out from the Greek place is just as delicious as Kurt had promised, they eat out of the plastic cartons with shared spoons and forks whilst hovering over the kitchen counter, it’s nothing like Christmas and its strangely perfect. The whole day has been perfect and so far from anything traditionally Christmassy that Blaine has ever been used to, he can’t think of anything that could ever top this.

 

The day ends with them a little too tipsy and draped over each other on the couch, Jester sprawled out along the top above them sleeping soundly, whilst playing a mulled wine plus a bottle or two or three of a champagne induced game of ‘never have I ever’, which lasts for about half of a round before Kurt’s eyes are fluttering closed against Blaine’s chest. 

 

Blaine smiles against the softness of Kurt’s hair under his chin, inhaling the last traces of his shampoo and cologne. Blaine had every intention of taking up Kurt’s offer on ‘there’s always later’ minus the fact that kissing has been removed from the equation for now, but with the way Kurt feels heavy and pliant against him, Blaine can’t actually think of a better way to end his Christmas day.  
Sleep slowly starts to take Blaine as music plays quietly from Kurt’s iPod in the background, he wraps his arms tightly around Kurt’s shoulders and a smile sits sweetly on his lips.  
With final sleepy thoughts swirling around in his head about where the hell he can get some mistletoe from, he grins as Kurt’s snuffles beneath him.  
“Best Christmas ever,” He just about whispers into nothing and to nobody in particular. 

 

*

 

Blaine wakes with a slight crack of his heavy eyelids, morning light a little brighter than the usual winter shade pouring in through the high rise living room windows across the room. He stretches with a gentle creak of his back and legs and knees clicking, falling asleep on the couch is never a great thing to do no matter the circumstance. There’s a slight sting behind his eyes and a dull throb in his temples and he also becomes aware of a soft weight atop his chest. He starts to smile before opening his eyes fully and chooses to ignore the feel of his headache as he tentatively raises a hand and lowers it down to what he believes will be Kurt’s head or neck or back. 

 

The feel of his slightly chilly finger tips gliding through waves of warm fur is a startling sensation but not one that should be so surprising to him. He’s awoken to find himself cuddled with his cat many a time and in a variety of ways, but as he finally opens his eyes he really wasn’t expecting to find Jester perched on his chest blinking at him casually. 

 

Blaine rubs at his eyes with one hand and tickles the crease in Jes’s neck made by his collar with his free hand, he drops his head back down to the couch with a groan. “What’cha doin man? Where’s Kurt, you scare him off? I knew you were jealous.” Blaine trails off as Jes purrs back at him conversationally with soft mewls.

 

Sounds of softly spoken murmurs and mumbles break through the fuzz of Blaine’s mind and into his ear drums, he sits up slightly, causing Jes to tumble down into the gap between Blaine and the back of the couch with a hiss. Kurt sounds like he’s out in the hallway, maybe in his office for some reason or the study, he’s probably on the phone. Blaine stands and pats down his rumpled pants, frowning at the creases before swiping his robe up off of the floor and putting it back on. He pads over to the kitchen, flicks on the coffee machine, grabs a glass fills it with water and opens up the medicine cabinet, searching for a quick head ache fix.  
The sounds of mutters and words from out the back are becoming a little louder like their gradually getting closer but still muffled and unintelligible, the conversation does sound to be rather animated though, footsteps are now added.  
Blaine swallows some pills and two full glasses of water before placing the glass in the sink and sets about making two steaming mugs of coffee. 

 

“Oh wonderful you’re up, good morning Blaine and Merry Christmas, I’ll have a Cappuccino please if your making, Kurt says your quite the coffee expert.” Blaine almost drops the carton of milk he’s just about to pour down on to the tiled floor as he spins around on the spot wide-eyed to the open kitchen doorway.

 

“Car- um Mrs Hu-

 

“Oh Carole’s fine, hello dear, it’s lovely to see you again, I knew, or rather hoped that I would.” Carole teeters forward and quickly kisses Blaine’s cheek as she squeezes his arms. Blaine does not miss the way that she takes in what he’s wearing, dishevelled hair and rosy cheeked appearance. He does not even dare to look past her at Kurt who is standing by the door, no doubt, also wide eyed, flushed skin, hair mussed with the shape of Blaine’s hands and wearing god knows what.

 

“Now,” Carole claps her hands together with a bright smile and looks to where Blaine had messily set about preparing he and Kurt a coffee, “lets get these drinks and get comfortable, it looks like we have a lot to catch up on hmm.”

 

Blaine is going to need more than just aspirin for this. 

 

*

 

Carole kindly and in what feels likes no time at all makes them all a small feast of side dishes, platters and finger foods. She had brought with her a hamper full of goods and treats that she makes up for Kurt every Christmas and had also picked up some champagne and orange juice on her way from the airport. She’s also expertly baked, boxed and wrapped one of her famous cheesecake’s that Kurt had boasted so gloriously about, of course she couldn’t visit without one and Kurt’s face and deep blue eyes positively lights the room when he sees her pulling it from her baggage.  
Carole sets a place for each of them at the dining room table, the one that is never used, with candles and champagne flutes and she puts on an old Christmas record on the vintage vinyl player in the corner of the room. 

 

Blaine has tried to offer his help in anyway he can but is always shooed and swatted away playfully, he has offered to sit in his room for a few hours and give the two some time and space to catch up but has been told to stop being ridiculous. So he uses the time it takes to get everything set up, to quickly shower and change instead.  
Blaine is not surprised when Kurt effectively stays out of his way during this quick break, and chooses to stay dressed in his loungewear to help Carole with the last finishing touches. What would they even say, what could they say in the small space of time before Carole comes looking for them. That woman is on a mission, and they both know it. 

 

Blaine likes Carole, he had ever since meeting her up in that strange office building. She’s a real busy body, a motherly figure but not so embarrassing or over powering, like she could be a good friend also, Blaine loves her presence. It’s also surprised him how Kurt is with her, their relationship is a little like Kurt’s and Santana’s, easy and playful, though Kurt obviously treats her with a hell of a lot more respect, and Carole does not randomly come out with the most insane things. 

 

Blaine’s first thought when Carole had showed up unexpected is that Kurt would revert back to his old ways, a feeling of dread and worry settles deep within his gut as he thought of how Kurt may act and present himself, he may close himself off and their ‘casual’ little deal may wash away into nothing after this. Of course they’re not going to flaunt what they have been up to right under her nose, but Blaine is curious of exactly how to be, how Kurt wants him to be. 

 

As Blaine makes his way back down and into the main hallway he can already hear the conversation through the open dining room door. 

 

“Carole you really didn’t have to do this-” 

 

“Oh hush Kurt, I know you, when else would you have ate some proper holiday food-”

 

“Yeah but Carole-”

 

“And you know me, I come and see you every Christmas-”

 

“Yeah but not as early as this, and you always call first or email and-”

 

“And you would have blown me off and made some excuse right?”

 

“No, well yeah, but Dad-”

 

“Your father’s fine honey, you know this, he booked my ticket, he wanted me to come see you, he’s gone ice fishing with Terry.” 

 

The voices are not hushed, this conversation is for anybody to hear, yet Blaine still feels like he’s intruding, but they know that he’s coming back down, they’re waiting for him to come back down. The room goes silent and there’s a clang of metal, like some cutlery is being adjusted or fiddled with. Blaine hears Carole breathe out a soft sigh before speaking again, a little gentler than before.

 

“You know you can just call him-”

 

“You know that I can’t.”

 

“Ugh, you two are just so-”

 

“Carole, come on, please, not now, I’m trying, you know that I’m trying right? I’ve done what you asked.” Kurt’s words are full with weight and empathy, the emphasis on the word ‘know’ hints that Carole knows exactly what he’s talking about. 

 

Blaine is almost at the doorway, he’s about to fake a loud cough or squeak his shoe along the wooden floor board to let them know that he’s there when he hears Kurt clear his throat. “You know that I would have set up your travel and sent you a car-”

 

“Sam’s in Ohio.”

 

“How do you-you seen him didn’t you?”

 

“He always comes back for the holidays honey, you know that his parents and your father and I go double dating every month-”

 

“What did Sam say?” Carole chuckles and Blaine thinks about back-stepping around the corner and up the stair case, maybe he could change his socks or something.

 

“Last time we tried this lovely little Mexican place and-”

 

“Carole-”

 

“I like him Kurt, you know who I mean, I really like that young man, and I know that you do, I just know it. I don’t know what’s been going on here, I don’t need to know, but there is something.” 

 

There’s another small stretch of silence and Blaine is now almost plastered to the outside wall of the dining room, chest pumping up and down, his ears are burning and his face is heated. He gets the strongest feeling that Carole is not referring to Sam.

 

“However long this thing goes on with you and your dad, I don’t know, I don’t particularly care, not anymore, it’s up to you two to sort it out, you’re so alike and so stubborn and-”

 

“Carole-” Blaine can hear the tinge of bored humour in Kurt’s voice, he can hear his eye roll and his fingers drumming lightly along the table top. 

 

“No matter how long it takes for you two to reunite, as long as you’re both ok, that’s all that matters to me. You know that we all have your best interests at heart Kurt, fame or not, we know you and we all love and care about you. Me, Santana, Sam and especially your father. You’re such a good person honey, you have such a good heart, let somebody in, let some body see it, it’s time for you to let the past go, don’t be that person anymore. Let Blaine-” 

 

A beeping from the kitchen sounds loudly and wildly, Blaine takes the opportunity to pick up his jaw from the floor and scramble back up a few steps as silently as possible. He slowly makes his way back down just as Carole hurries from the room with an oven mitt dangling from one hand. “Oh no, the chicken.”

 

Blaine enters the dining room with a small chuckle as he watches Carole scamper away, the room looks lovely, the table set with champagne flutes and the centrepiece candles glowing, giving off some ambience.  
Kurt is sitting on the far side with an elbow resting on the white table cloth, and a palm wrapped around one cheek. He looks up as Blaine steps closer into the room, his pale defined face illuminated by the small flickering flames in front of him, blue eyes lit with sparks of green and swirls of grey. Kurt looks exquisite in this light, though he always does, truly exquisite. He’s still wearing yesterday’s pyjamas, with his hair rumpled this way and that, but he is still the most gorgeous thing Blaine has ever seen. 

 

His beautiful face is masked with some form of emotion, something that is causing him to sit still and think, to make him slump his shoulders and stare off into nothing, Blaine hopes that it is not him, Blaine hopes, he wishes that he can be the one, to transform that face, to tease a smile onto those lips and to see those eyes light with mirth and familiar mischief.

 

As Blaine pulls out a chair opposite Kurt at the table leaning forward, their eyes finally meet and lock on to each other, Kurt’s hand drops from his face and he straightens in his chair. Blaine is waiting for him to get up and leave the room, instead Kurt slides that hand across the table and curls two fingers over the top of two of Blaine’s. Blaine looks down at the gentle surprising touch and then back up, heart squeezing in his chest, as Kurt gives him the hint of a smile followed by a quick wink and pulls his hand back. 

 

Kurt may not be going anywhere after all. 

 

*

 

Kurt slides his empty plate away from him with a hearty groan and pats at his stomach, as he drains the last few drops of his Mimosa.

 

“You’ve out done yourself Carole.”

 

“You say that every year Honey.”

 

“This is the year though.”

 

“Carole, Kurt had already told me about your cooking and I must say his generous blathering was seriously understated.” 

 

“Oh you’re too sweet honey.”

 

“Ok, I think it’s about time I actually go and get dressed, I’ll be quick.” Kurt seems to hover above his chair for a beat, like he’s thinking something over before giving his head a subtle shake and stands from the table. He glances at Carole and then Blaine quickly before picking up a plate of leftover chicken scraps, “Nobody do the dishes, we’ll deal with them later, but I’m going to give these to Jes.” 

 

Kurt makes his way around the table and over to the door. Blaine hurries to swallow his drink, which is just starting to settle nicely in his stomach after the remnants of his earlier hangover had faded, although Kurt hasn’t seemed to have had a problem with it at all. “Kurt, no, not too much, he’ll get sick.” 

 

“Oh he’ll be fine, he loves it.” Kurt calls playfully as he exits.

 

“He’s sleeping with you tonight then.” Blaine mumbles amusingly around his glass. Carole smirks around her last bite of cheesecake as she throws a sideways wink in Blaine’s direction. 

 

“He’s a cute little thing, isn’t he, you three make quite a family.” She muses quietly with a jovial lilt to her tone whilst stacking some plates together and adding the used utensils to the top, she’s either oblivious to the fact that Blaine has almost sprayed alcoholic fruit juice all over the table top or blissfully ignorant to it. “Burt, Kurt’s father wont let me have a pet,” she adds, like she needs to say something else. 

 

There’s a faint humming out in the hallway followed by a low muttering and distant foot steps, “Ok you can come with me, but you’re sitting at the door.” Blaine smirks, picturing Jes following Kurt up to his room, that’s what happens when you feed him nasty treats. He looks back at Carole to find her watching him carefully with a mischievous smile, and what looks to be her third Mimosa she’s pouring into her glass.

 

“Kurt’s father, um Burt, sounds like he’s a great man, I, I have to say that since meeting you that first day, on my interview, I have loved getting to know Kurt and hearing about his life and accomplishments.” Carole smiles brightly and nods, as she sets the champagne bottle down.

 

“That’s nice dear, I’m glad, he hasn’t told you about his dad much huh?”

 

“Only good things.” Blaine says and is tone is dripping with earnest. It’s the utmost truth. 

 

Carole nods and hums. “He’ll tell you about it one day, it’s his battle, their battle, I’m just happy to have him around, who else is going to scold me for wearing navy, brown and black all at the same time.” She scoffs a laugh and then looks almost solemn, it looks strange on her usually happy face. Blaine feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Carole, I’m so sorry to hear about your-your son Finn-” Carole looks back at him and smiles brightly once again, she waves a hand politely. 

 

“It’s ok dear, it’s not ok, we’re dealing with it still I guess, but you don’t have to do that, thank you though.” Blaine nods in understanding and she continues. “I must say that I’ve loved hearing about you, and the work that you and Kurt have been up to, sounds like you’re cooking up a storm around here.” She smiles and Blaine smiles back, “I am genuinely very, very pleased that you’re still here Blaine, working for Kurt that is.” 

 

Blaine smiles and nods again, not sure of what to say to that really, he takes a sip from his flute and swallows. Blaine gets the feeling that Carole wouldn’t mind answering a few simple, respectful questions. Alcohol or not, even though it is only half a glass topped up with fruit juice anyway, Carole seems to be an honest soul, the type to wear her heart on her sleeve, like Blaine, maybe that’s why they seem to get along so well. He won’t ask anything intrusive, nothing that he wouldn’t have asked Kurt eventually himself anyway, but he knows that with Carole it will be easier, she’ll be truthful if not forceful if needed. 

 

“Carole do-do you mind me asking about my interview that day, that office, it was, um it-” Carole laughs and sets down her glass.

 

“Oh that office was nothing more than a rented space that we quickly cleaned up, Kurt doesn’t use another office apart from his home space, and of course the meeting and board rooms which are set up for him-”

 

“Then why-”

 

“For interviews, for your interview, Kurt didn’t want to hold it here, even though I told him that you’d end up here anyway if you took the job, you know how he is, very particular.”

 

“He’s never held interviews before?”

 

“No honey, he’s never needed to-”

 

“What about that day, weren’t there any other candidates as well as myself?”

 

“We were very hopeful for you dear, out of the bunch of resumes that were sent to us, yours seemed to just stand out to him.” Blaine considers this as Carole fingers around the edge of her glass, like she’s quietly contemplating.  
“Can I tell you something Blaine?” He looks up, with knitted brows to find Carole almost hunched over the table, looking at him directly, he nods as he feels his pulse quicken.

 

Her eyes dart to the ceiling and back down, like she’s gesturing to the bedrooms above, “He’s very protective of himself, you know that already.” Blaine nods and tilts his head in understanding. “But I also think that he’s very protective of you too, in fact I know that, I don’t know what’s going on in his head, nobody does, that’s always been a problem with him.” 

 

She laughs quietly and something passes over her features, Blaine feels a crack in his chest at the sight, Carole deeply cares for Kurt, he can see it, he can feel it. “He’s very impulsive, and a little irrational at times, and I’m not implying here that anything is happening with you two,” She says this with a sly tilt to her lips and a glance in the opposite direction, “But you do bode well for him, to be around him, and I don’t even mind that he’ll want to kill me if he thinks I’m saying this to you, because I know that he’ll tell you himself one day, he just needs time, he’s needs to trust that you’ll give him time.”

 

Blaine feels like he can hardly speak, his chest is thumping and cracking and his breath feels tight in his throat, “Honestly Carole? I’ll give him anything. He’s done so much for me, when I felt I had nothing-he, this job means everything to me now.” Carole reaches forward and pats his hand, her eyes are shining, wide and clear.

 

“I know honey, I know that, you’ll get it back, everything you think you had lost, it will still be there somewhere, you’ll get it back.”

 

Blaine thinks, he knows that he already has.

 

*

 

Carole conveniently and maybe also not so much stays with the boys in New York until the day before New Years Eve, Burt is due back from his trip later on that day and so they have coincided their returns back to Lima together. She has been a joy to have around, a true gem, and even though it is not how he had initially dreamed he and Kurt would be spending the majority of the holidays, Blaine still cant say that he hasn’t liked having her around. The three of them have enjoyed cooking and baking together, lunching and dining out, shopping sprees with private viewings and glasses of sparkling wine. 

 

There had been only one dampened moment when Carole had seemed a little flustered after having been followed down Broadway by a small mob after a Matinee showing, but had been easily appeased later on with some behind the scenes juicy gossip from winter fashion week.

 

Blaine has to be honest, though he cant speak for Kurt directly, he is secretly looking forward to having their space back, their private time, there is only now a few days until Sam and Santana return, and Blaine doesn’t even want to think about what will happen then. He can only hope that Kurt still wants him and has been pining for him the way that Blaine has been tearing up inside for him. Although the quick brush of hands and chaste pecks on cheeks have been giving him hope to hold out for more, whilst Carole is using the bathroom or distracted whilst fussing over Jes, but it’s just not enough anymore.

 

Long hugs and kisses and cheeky not so subtle winks with blushing cheeks are shared in the entrance hall just in front of the elevator and afterwards Blaine fills up Jes’s water bowl in the kitchen and adds some treats to his dish as he gives Kurt and Carole some privacy whilst the doorman comes up to help Carole with her luggage. Blaine hears a chorus of goodbyes, safe well wishes and greetings for the upcoming New Year, until they are swallowed up by the slide of heavy metal doors and carried away with a distant dinging sound.

 

Blaine buries his hands in his pants pockets and slowly strides over to the open doorway between the living area and the hallway. Kurt glances over from where he is slumped against the elevator wall, his eyes are dark and hooded and there is a small smirk creeping up on his lips as he pushes himself off of the wall and walks towards him. They meet in the middle under the arched walkway.

 

“Hey.” Kurt says, arms dangling at his sides before gently pulling Blaine’s wrists out of his pockets and tugs him forward until there is not much space left between them at all. Blaine’s eyes widen, big and round and glowing as he grins one sided-ly, head tilted.

 

“Hey yourself.” 

 

“Do we even have to say anything?”

 

“I don’t know, do we?” Kurt smirks and shakes his head slowly, swinging their arms in the small gap between their bodies, looking completely adorable and completely kissable. Only then do Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, something dawning on him. “We never did work out that deal did we? Is it too late for a Christmas kiss?” Blaine doesn’t care what Kurt’s answer will be, he’s half a second from demanding a kiss anyway, demanding something, anything before he tackles Kurt down to the ground.

 

But Kurt is already grinning at him widely, almost naughtily so, and when their eyes catch and Blaine makes a questionable face at him, Kurt tilts his chin and lifts his gaze up to the archway above their heads.  
Blaine is already smirking, already anticipating what he’ll find when he looks up, and yep, there it is, a lush of green leaves with small white buds gathered in the middle, wrapped together neatly with a rich red ribbon, dangling from a piece of sticky tape. 

 

Blaine doesn’t even have the headspace to come up with anything appropriate to say, he doesn’t trust the words that he thinks may tumble from his tongue and his lips should he open his mouth to try. Instead he wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and tugs him down, mouths meeting and melding instantly, their bodies relaxing into each others like they haven’t been able to breathe right for the past three days. 

 

Just under three days, Blaine thinks, eyes closed already lost to the feel of Kurt’s tongue and his lips and his hands, already evaporating in his taste and his smell.  
Just under three more days of this. Blaine stops thinking, there is no time to think now, only time to feel and to hope, there is always hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I always love to know what you think ;).. Thank You as always : )


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thank you everyone for your generous comments and being patient with this dear little story. The next couple updates may be a little later than usual, unfortunately ‘life get’s in the way of life’ as Kurt would say, but we’ll get back to you ASAP. Thank you again.

Blaine doesn’t even know why the fact that Sam and Santana are due back the day after tomorrow bothers him. It’s New Years Eve, he and Kurt still have tonight and tomorrow alone together. The thing is though, is that Santana only really calls by twice a week anyway, technically that’s like a day and a half and probably not even that knowing her, and Sam only ever actually comes up into the condo when he’s invited in, otherwise he just hangs out in the car or wherever, because he’s just Sam. 

 

The point is that Blaine and Kurt and are left alone Ninety percent of the time, obviously not including working hours when they could be surrounded by a boardroom of Twenty middle-aged guys in badly pressed suits.   
So why is Blaine feeling so worried about it now? They had always flirted and acted like nothing was waiting to happen anyway, Sam knows it, god knows Santana knew it, so why is Blaine so caught up about it?

 

Maybe it’s because he’s worried that Kurt will revert back to his old ways when he knows that they’re around, maybe it’s because he thinks that Kurt actually meant it when he said along the lines of ‘let’s be casual over Christmas. No there’s no thinking about it, Blaine knows that the reason he feels his breath tight and stuck his throat, his chest pounding with each step he makes, is because he doesn’t want Kurt to stay true to his word. If hope was ever going to be such a truer thing and present in the way of a tiny glimmer in the fleck of Kurt’s galaxy like eyes, then Blaine will still hold on to it, as small as it may be, Blaine will still hold on to the thought, that maybe, just maybe Kurt doesn’t want ‘just casual’ either.

 

But what Kurt wants and what he needs and what he actually does and gets are very different things indeed, but Blaine knows, Blaine knows that what Kurt needs is not something that is just casual. Blaine knows that Kurt wants him, but getting him to admit that he needs him, that he needs something as strong and real as the feelings that Blaine has for Kurt, is going to take some doing. Thankfully Blaine is a patient man, he only hopes that Kurt will also show as much. 

 

*

 

Blaine pretty much glides into the living room, a spring in his step as he hums a tune he just made up in his head. The room is dimly lit with just a table lamp switched on and dotted candles burning bright all around, there are fireworks already setting off early out in the purpling blue sky and he can see the bright glares off out in the distance from the window. There’s some New Year countdown show playing quietly to nobody on the TV and there’s music filling the air, music of strings and simple soft steady beats and piano chords, but not from the sound system, it’s coming from out the back. 

 

Blaine strides over to the kitchen, he’s wearing sharp fitted grey suit pants with a crisp white shirt and a silk navy bow tie, he’d gelled his curls into little neat obedient flicks and the five o’clock shadow is starting to form on his jaw line. He took care whilst cleaning and readying himself for the night earlier, with a splash of expensive cologne he let himself splurge on when out shopping with Carole, he looks and smells good and he knows it. 

 

Blaine smiles at the glass of champagne that has already been set out ready for him on the counter and picks it up, bringing it to his lips and swallowing, he closes his eyes at the feel of the bubbles on his tongue, cascading down his throat, he immediately feels the rise to his head, and his body loosens and relaxes. He walks forward and through into the dining room where he knows the music is coming from, the room where he and Kurt and Carole had sat, talking and laughing and eating, the very room where hope itself had started to burn and simmer deeply in the pit of Blaine’s stomach, he still remembers the way Kurt’s eyes glowed in the candle light and his face lit up like a beacon.

 

The dining room has been set up much the same as it had a few days ago, candles are burning, the table cloth is pressed, shiny polished cutlery are set out at both ends of the table next to water glasses and serving dishes. The room is a little darker though, somehow, maybe not so many candles, the air is a little more heady, the atmosphere thick with something Blaine cant quite put his finger on, maybe something intimate. 

 

Kurt is sitting at the far end of the table, his long legs crossed under the table at the knee and one Italian leather shoe peeking out from beside the table leg. He’s wearing a black shirt stretched tight over his chest and arms with a light grey cravat wrapped around his neck, his hair is styled up and his eyes are sparkling, matching the mischievous smirk on his lips as he watches Blaine enter the room and take his seat on the opposite end. He looks entirely too gorgeous for Blaine to even produce words right now.

 

“I got your note.” Blaine says as he slides the small ivory card, that he found on the floor next to his bedroom door earlier that day, out from his pants pocket and on to the table.

 

“I see that.” Kurt’s voice is gentle and soft, he picks up a champagne flute and tips it in Blaine’s direction, before taking a sip. “I’m glad, welcome.”

 

Blaine does the same and there’s a moment of welcomed silence, a moment of pleasant gratitude and wonder. Blaine lets his eyes wander around the table, there are hot plates set up, serving platters and bowls of mixed vegetables and sauces that smell completely delicious. 

 

“You didn’t have to do all of this Kurt.” Blaine tries to keep the awe and pleasant surprise out of his tone and the fact that he’s secretly giddy with it all, with the thought that Kurt has shown, as his eyes follow the trail of his nose and the aromas it’s picking up. Kurt really must have spent a long time preparing all of this that afternoon. Probably longer than the amount of time it had taken Blaine to clean his room a little, organise some laundry and swap out Jes’s litter tray, because he’s an adult and without their ‘efficient’ house keeper around, he has to do these things, Christmas or not. 

 

Blaine wonders how Kurt had got it past him, how long had Kurt been preparing to do this for them, for him. They had talked about New Years Eve briefly and had pretty much planned on not really having any plans as such, just seeing where the evening takes them. Men of their age, of their position and current situation and circumstances, do not necessarily need the company of a room or bar or Times Square full of people, to celebrate and drink and be merry with. It’s very evident that at times like this, they actually prefer the all too intimate company of only each other, and Blaine’s cat, of course, wherever he may be. 

 

“Of course I did.” And it’s not really up for discussion, too late now anyway, but there’s something in Kurt’s tone, that tells Blaine be glad, be thankful for this, for him, for now. Their eyes catch over a rounded glass jar with a fat candle burning inside, melted wax clinging to the edges. Kurt’s pink lips purse slightly as he slides a hand out over the table cloth between them, his fingers twitch and Blaine takes a second to think whether he should stretch forward and meet his hand with one of his own. As if talking himself out of whatever he was thinking about doing, Kurt’s long fingers drum lightly over the surface, maybe a little nervously.  
“Shall we?” He finally says, eyes never leaving Blaine’s, but Blaine knows what he means, he just knows. 

 

“Yes, we shall.” 

 

*

 

Blaine doesn’t know how much time has passed as they eat, but the New Year is ticking its way closer at a pleasant leisurely pace. Kurt’s cooking is just so delicious, Blaine has always known this but tonight he seems to have done something different, something special, gone that extra mile, like he’s added a sprinkle of magic itself. Kurt tries to offer him a helping from each dish until Blaine shoos him telling him to sit down and that he’s done enough, and stands to serve Kurt proudly himself. They finish the already opened bottle of Champagne, open and finish another and then eventually start on a bottle of Chianti whilst they chat easily, laughing and joking, taking their time with each course and drink.

 

Kurt excuses himself from the table after neatly dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin, and Blaine licks his lips at the sight, the bubbles and the thick of the red wine is pounding deliciously at his temples and sitting hotly in his chest. Blaine picks up his glass and presses it to his lips, to give himself something to do, the coolness of the glass feels nice against his flushed cheeks and stubbly upper lip, he watches Kurt with smiling eyes as he quietly leaves the room. Blaine undoes his cufflinks and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, he fingers at his bow tie loosening it just a fraction and pops the first button at his collar. He grins when Kurt comes back moments later, noticing he has done the same, his gorgeous silky soft cravat seeming to hang a little lower, dipping into the deeper looking cut V shape of his shirt, and exposing the hollow of his creamy throat beautifully. 

 

There’s still about a third of their bottle of wine left but Kurt has brought another and a cork screw in just in case, he’s also holding a flat silver dish in one hand and a china bowl in the other. Blaine can smell the melted chocolate, rich and thickly scented and something sweet as Kurt draws nearer to the table. 

 

Kurt pauses before he sits at his chair, he looks briefly at the short space between the two of their place settings and chairs, as if he’s weighing up his options, even though all of the others chairs have been moved from the room. After a beat, he sits down at his chair at the opposite end of where Blaine is sitting, and seeming a little disappointed by it also, the table is not necessarily too long or too big, if Kurt was to really shuffle forward he and Blaine could meet some how in the middle. But Blaine tries not to let himself think that this was where Kurt was going with his silent disgruntled train of thought. 

 

Kurt places the dishes in the middle of the table and slides the other empty ones away and off to the side, Blaine can now see the range of fruits on the platter, grapes and chunks of apple and watermelon, a pile of red juicy strawberries, accompanied by a little stack of tooth picks, a small bowl of sugar and of course the heaping bowl of hot smooth melted chocolate. Kurt wastes no time in stabbing at a grape with one of the little wooden sticks and taking it between his lips. Blaine watches for a moment before opting for a piece of watermelon, he sucks the juice from his fingertips which dribbles lightly from his lips and does not miss the way that Kurt’s lips part a little as he chews and looks on.

 

“So,” Kurt starts, finally breaking the careful silence between them after they’ve each eaten about three pieces of fruit, both seem to be artfully avoiding the strawberries and the chocolate. “How would you usually be spending New Years Eve?” 

 

Only then does Blaine think to glance up to the grand wall clock that’s hanging just above the stereo, it’s a little after Ten O’clock. He rubs his fingers on a napkin and takes a sip from his glass.   
“Well round about now I’d probably still be playing a set somewhere, anywhere that would have me, with anyone who wasn’t drunk enough to still be able to listen.”

 

Blaine pauses and thinks about his words before he continues, he thinks about whether he misses it, the performing and the trudging around from place to place, this is the first year in around Seven or so that he hasn’t been all over the city in the cold dark night, strumming and singing and trying so hard to be seen, to be heard, to be liked. Yes Blaine misses his music, he can’t deny it, he misses the way he feels and the way he just is when he sings with his fingers busy over wiry strings or smooth piano keys. But right now, tonight there is only one person that he’s trying to impress, and he knows he doesn’t even have to try anymore. There is only one man, who he is battling for his attention, and it’s not even a battle, not now. 

 

Blaine smiles pulling himself back to what he was saying, “Either drunk enough or able to pull their faces away from somebody else’s face for long enough to pay attention to me.” He grins playfully and Kurt smiles back, with a flash of those blue eyes over the candlelight.

 

“Ah yes, the typical New Years Eve kiss.” Kurt’s eyes are dancing with the small flickering flames, he leans forward and goes in for the kill, picking up a strawberry and swiping it through the chocolate and up to his lips in one fluid swoop. He licks away the trail of chocolate the fruit leaves on his lips and Blaine tries very, very hard to suppress a groan. Thankfully the music is still playing just loud enough to cover up the slight diluted grumble in Blaine’s chest, that he has no control of.

 

Blaine smirks and leans forward doing the same, picking up a piece and dabbing it lightly into the thick brown sweet sauce, “Well, technically that’s only at midnight, still two hours away.” 

 

Blaine lifts the fruit to his mouth and frowns down at the small dollop that has managed to land on the table cloth below, he looks up to find Kurt smiling at him. Blaine chews slowly and startles slightly as Kurt stands, his chair scraping as he pulls it with him around the table to the side, closer to Blaine. Blaine swallows the last little bite and smiles, standing to hover and lift his chair slightly, he does the same, moving to meet Kurt halfway, so now they are both sitting side by side at the longer end of the table. Their knees are brushing lightly together and Blaine is sure that if he moved his foot an inch to the left they could be playing a form of footsy.

 

Kurt grins moving his glass back towards him at his new place at the table as Blaine picks up the bottle and fills up their glasses and then pulls the fruit and the chocolate dishes closer to them. “Better?” Kurt asks, his voice a little deep.

 

“Better.” Blaine replies, an almost whisper.

 

Kurt picks up another piece of fruit and dips it back into the sauce, gathering another generous helping. “So, were you ever too busy to get your own New Years Eve Kiss?” He smirks as he sucks on the fruit, his pink lips already stained dark from the wine are now smudged with chocolate, the contrast against his pale skin and rosy cheeks is striking, and Blaine wants to duck forward and just taste him, taste him everywhere. And what’s more, he knows that Kurt knows that he wants to do that too.  
Kurt is being very daring tonight and Blaine loves it. 

 

“Why does this sound a little like a proposition?” Blaine licks his lips and smiles as Kurt’s eyes widen and glances at him sideways, grinning devilishly. 

 

“We’re not very good at these traditional things Blaine, we proved that at Christmas.” 

 

“But we got Mistletoe in the end.”

 

“I got Mistletoe in the end.” Kurt drawls with a grin, as he opts for sugar with his strawberry this time. Yes you did, Blaine thinks, Kurt has never stopped surprising him. 

 

“What about you, any handsome English folk over in your fancy holiday home to celebrate the clock striking twelve with?” Blaine winks, he thinks that it’s too late to worry about crossing the line now, he takes a drink from his glass and licks away the remnants of the dark purple liquid as it sits on his tongue. Kurt glances down and smiles, he looks almost shy, a look that Blaine isn’t sure he’s seen on Kurt before.

 

“You know I like my solitude,” Kurt answers quietly, and it’s not the answer that Blaine was expecting.

 

“Oh come one, surely you-” Kurt suddenly looks up, directly at Blaine pinning him with wide darkened eyes, though they’re soft in his face, matching his small hidden smile. It’s enough to make the words die on Blaine’s lips, he swallows them back down.

 

“I’ve never had a boyfriend, actually, not really.” And Blaine wasn’t expecting that either. 

 

That’s not what Blaine was getting at with his silly comment, at all, but shit he couldn’t have hoped for a better reply. Blaine can’t say that he’s completely surprised, there are no hints or evidence to say that Kurt has ever had a relationship, but there have been none to state otherwise either. Kurt is wealthy, powerful, kind, extremely gorgeous and eligible and the only definite reason why Kurt has remained unattached is because it’s been Kurt’s choice to do so. Blaine knows that, he gets that.   
He doesn’t know what to say, he opens and closes his mouth wordlessly, gulping around nothing until Kurt helps him out. 

 

“I don’t trust easily, if you haven’t noticed,” He adds dryly with a quirked eyebrow and Blaine smiles a little, pleased to see that Kurt is still adding humour and his normal dose of sarcasm to this surprising turn of events. “I guess there’s always also the fact that I’ve been busy over the years, never really been in one place long enough, the past year or so is the longest I’ve spent in New York, I’ve become rather attached to the condo now,” He glances at Blaine a little self consciously, “I’ve never been able to commit, to give over that side of myself, part of me was toyed with and broken back in high school, and I’ve worked too hard shielding myself from that happening again.” 

 

He pauses to take a drink and Blaine can’t tear his eyes away from him, he just wants to pull Kurt into a strong embrace or climb into Kurt’s lap and wrap him up tightly. Blaine can hardly breathe with the weight of what Kurt is admitting, confessing to him, opening up a very raw and private part of himself. Blaine wants to fix Kurt, Blaine can take those pieces and put them back together, he can, he needs to. 

 

“I-I guess that kissing somebody at New Years, sharing such a silly little intimate thing on a worldly monumental occasion usually in the middle of a crowd of people is kind of like a promise, it’s like an acceptance of what’s to come, of what’s to be expected.” Blaine scrunches his brow, he doesn’t quite get what Kurt is saying entirely, but he understands the meaning, he knows the vulnerability that Kurt is showing whilst saying this.

 

“But Kurt, relatives kiss on New Years, friends and strangers even, it’s just a silly tradition, nothing that’s supposed to mean anything-”

 

“Everything means something to somebody.” Kurt says and Blaine feels winded with the quietly spoken simple statement. He feels the strength of the words, down to his core. 

 

Blaine doesn’t know why his next train of thought leads to his next sudden question, he knows it’s probably not the most appropriate time to bring it up or why he even has to, but he has to.

 

“Kurt, I um, back when I first started here, I overheard parts of a discussion you and Santana were having in your office, I was coming back up from the gym and I couldn’t help but-I um, I was worried about you-I always worry about you-” Kurt looks at him then, long and deep and steady and Blaine waits for the icy scowl or the upturn of an eyebrow but instead is greeted with a surprising shy smile, slowly etching its way on to his lips.

 

“I know you worry, and I wish that you wouldn’t, you don’t have to, there’s no reason too, but I mean it’s nice-that you do, I-I like that you do, a-and I always figured that you heard us that day.” 

 

“I guess I should tell you that I also heard part of what you and Carole were saying the other day, in here, just a small part of it, similar to what I think Santana was getting at that day.” Blaine gulps as Kurt eyes flash at him, his small smile still unwavering and takes a long draw from his glass. 

 

“I figured that too.” 

 

“They worry about you too, they care, as do I-”

 

“I guess whatever you heard Santana saying to me that day, kind of sums up parts of what I’ve just said to you now-”

 

“I think that’s why I was curious, wondering if it was all connected somehow.” Kurt nods at him in understanding. “You don’t ever have to tell me anything, you know, I don’t want you too feel like you have to tell me anything about yourself, but like I said I care about you a lot, there’s no lying about that now, and, and I guess I just-”

 

Blaine is cut off suddenly by Kurt’s hands wrapped around the curve of his neck, fingers playing in his hairline, as he’s pushed back against the wooden arch of the chair, and the press of Kurt’s soft warm lips brush against his own. Blaine’s eyes flutter closed as he responds to the urgent kiss, words and everything else seemingly forgotten as he lets Kurt take control, take him and have him and before long Kurt is sitting in his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders, ignoring the squeak of the wooden chair below them. 

 

They kiss, long and slow and lazy and for what feels likes forever, with smiles against lips, soft gasps and puffs of air against the slide of tongues, nibbles against fuzzy jaws and cheeks. Kurt tastes like wine and chocolate, the taste and scent rich and heady in Blaine’s nose and in his mouth, he feels almost dizzy with it. 

 

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and tightens his hold, Kurt squeaks a little and grins against his mouth when Blaine’s hands land on the swell of his ass and squeeze lightly, he slides his fingers under and dig them softly into the backs of Kurt’s thighs as he moans lightly in the next assault of kisses.   
Kurt squeaks even louder when Blaine suddenly stands, pulling Kurt up with him, tight and sturdy in his strong arms and under his hands. He squeezes Kurt’s thighs encouraging him to wrap his knees and legs tighter around his waist as he walks them out of the room, Kurt mouths and smiles against Blaine’s neck as Blaine takes them out of the room and a few steps over towards the stair case. 

 

Kurt slides down back to the ground as Blaine nudges him forward with a playful grin, his heels just hitting the edge of the first step. Wordlessly Blaine takes his hand and tugs him up the stairs with him, eager fingers already pulling at their neck accessories.  
Sometimes words are just not needed.

 

*

 

“Jester has hardly bothered us tonight, it’s weird, is he ok?” 

 

“He doesn’t like New Year, doesn’t celebrate it-” Kurt laughs loudly and Blaine smiles, he loves the sound, loves the way Kurt looks when he smiling widely, teeth on show, chin tipped back. In fact Kurt is looking pretty damn incredible right now, not like he doesn’t always, but Blaine is proud of the way Kurt looks right now, flushed and happy, relaxed and sated, knowing he’s part of the reason why.

 

Despite it almost being the extremely early hours of the First of January, and it being absolutely nowhere close to warm outside at all, they’re sitting out on Blaine’s bedroom balcony, side by side impossibly close on metal patio chairs and wrapped up many various forms of blanket. Kurt’s hair is sticking out everywhere, set that way by Blaine’s fingers, his eyes are clear and sparkling, highlighted under the odd dot of stars and the flare of fireworks shooting up here there and everywhere. His nose and ears are flushed with the cool crisp air and his cheeks are flushed with the remnants of their earlier activities. 

 

Blaine’s stomach twists deliciously as he looks at Kurt sideways, not even bothering to care that he’s just openly watching him now with a bashful grin and wine stained kissed swollen lips. He thinks about where they just were, what they were doing, warm and sticky and sweaty against each other, between Blaine’s cool sheets. He can still feel Kurt’s longs fingers inside of him, slickly stretching him open, pushing and teasing him against that spot again and again until his orgasm came crashing down out of nowhere. He can still feel Kurt’s lips against his skin, his tongue and his teeth, he can still taste Kurt in his mouth, the bitter salty sweet aftertaste of him, he can still feel Kurt hard and leaking within the tight grasp of his palm.

 

There seems to be a pattern emerging, a pattern that isn’t straying far from what they’re used to with each other, on the couch or in Blaine’s bed with hand jobs and blow jobs and Kurt seems to know just how much Blaine loves the feel of his fingers inside of him. Blaine hasn’t tested the waters yet of offering Kurt the same treatment, he knows with the way Kurt trembles deliciously under his touch with the sweep of his hands and fingers when Blaine dares to go lower, that Kurt is not opposed to that, but Blaine still feels like he must wait for that venture some how, waiting for what, he doesn’t know.

 

Blaine is not complaining, god he’ll take Kurt in any dose he can get, but it is becoming increasingly harder to bite his lip and not scream out ‘Just fuck me, Kurt’ when Kurt’s skilled fingers are working their magic. Blaine doesn’t know why Kurt doesn’t just do it, take it further and own Blaine completely, he already has such a big hold on him already, sex is simply going to amplify that but Blaine is already a goner with that man, in so many ways. 

 

As if on cue the patio door behind them squeaks open wider slightly and Jes patters out with a quiet mewl of recognition when he notices them huddled together, not a second later a loud bang followed by a distant scatter of colour goes off and he comically scarpers back inside with an angry hiss. 

 

Kurt smiles, “I think I can sense where his hatred of the night comes from.” He leans forward towards the small rounded table and unwinds a hand out from the folds of blanket as he reaches for his wine glass. After catching their breath, and allowing the mix of come and sweat to cool and dry on their skin, they cleaned up and redressed in comfier clothes and Kurt had went back down to retrieve their abandoned bottle of wine, as Blaine began to set up their little camp out on the balcony.

 

Blaine hums and stretches his legs out under their makeshift outdoor bed, his socked feet brush and toes wriggle against Kurt’s and Kurt grins against his glass. Kurt hands Blaine his glass and they clink and sip quietly together as they watch a continuous flurry of bright sparks and lights up ahead in the sky. It must be very nearly close to midnight now, as the excited sounds and cut off beats of music grow louder and more insistent from the streets below, stretching over block by block. 

 

Neither man have a current concept of time, their watches were taken off during the earlier scramble of de-clothing and its kind of perfect sitting there, wrapped up in each other in the cold night watching the rest of the world draw in a New Year, whilst ignoring the idea of time or reality. There’s a sudden chorus of a loud chant, filtering in through the air from all around them and Blaine knows it’s the countdown. He places his glass down and Kurt’s does the same also as he twists and turns inwards in the little seat, his knees practically draping over the top of Kurt’s. Their bodies seeking every inch of warmth from each other.

 

Kurt gulps hard and Blaine watches the movement of his Adam’s apple, they search each other eyes as the crowd grow louder and the countdown grows shorter, a silent exchange of deep glimmering gazes. 

 

There’s an eruption of words, an array of music, lights and fireworks, bang and cracks and far off chimes, swirls of shooting colours painting the sky. Kurt smiles as he looks out and watches the city break out into celebration, Blaine smiles as he watches Kurt. 

 

“Happy New Year, Kurt.” Blaine’s says, soft and steady, his lips open and close again but this time wordlessly, hopelessly searching for something to do, for something to say. He knows what he wants to do, what he should do, but that’s also the same thing that he know Kurt doesn’t want to do.   
He closes his eyes and feels like burying himself further down into his cocoon of blankets, to keep from leaning over and nestling his face against Kurt’s.

 

The cool wet feel of Kurt’s lips pressed against his cheek jolts him where he sits and his eyes snap open. Kurt rasps, barely loud enough to be heard, “Thank you for joining me on this journey Blaine.”

 

Blaine turns his face, eyes blinking and lips parted incredulously. No explanation is particularly needed about the use of the word ‘journey’ or what part of it. Kurt glances up above and then slowly pulls his eyes away from the sky, crystal glass-like orbs dotted with the reflection of colours from up above, and lock on to Blaine. Breath taking.

 

Kurt leans in once more, there’s a look of slight uncertainty in his eyes as he ducks his chin and Blaine just wants to cup his face and brush his thumbs over skin but refrains. Kurt gently, achingly slowly presses their lips together tentatively with a gust of cool breath, “Happy New Year, Blaine, here’s hoping it’s what you imagine it to be.”

 

Here’s hoping, Blaine thinks as his eyes slide closed as Kurt kisses him again and again, on New Years Day. Hope.


	12. Chapter 12

“Sam? Hey buddy how are you?” Blaine walks into the kitchen, crisp and clean in pressed plaid pants, a white shirt and vest over the top and a smile on his face. Sam is sitting at the breakfast bar, dressed smartly in a black suit, his drivers hat perched on his lap and his palms moulded around a steaming mug and a bagel sitting beside a stack of papers on the kitchen island.

 

“Hey Blaine, good to see you, I’m good, thanks, how’s things with you? Happy New Year.” Blaine approaches him with a friendly back slap and pours himself a mug of coffee before pulling out a stool and sitting down beside Sam. 

 

“Oh yeah, happy New Year to you too, I’m all good, thank you, happy to be back to work? How was Ohio?” Blaine asks with a grin before taking a sip from his mug and peering down to look at the black and white headlines on the paper on the countertop.

 

Sam nods his head whilst he swallows a bite of creamed cheese and bacon and washes it down with a swig of coffee, “Ohio was great, man I love being back home, and seeing my family, did you make it back?” 

 

Blaine lifts his head, his eyes trailing with him slowly as he shakes his head no. He was pretty sure that Sam was aware that he had stayed in NY for the holidays, with Kurt. Maybe he was just trying to be cool.

 

“No, not this year, it was a welcome break from my family for a change.” Sam grins in simple understanding and Blaine opts for a quick subject change.  
“What brings you to the condo this morning?” Blaine nods towards the last bite of bagel that’s currently on its way to Sam’s mouth and twists in his stool looking for any signs of leftovers.

 

“The big boss man invited me up for breakfast, you guy’s meeting across town got cancelled until a little later right? So he told me just to come up and wait.” Sam nods along to his own words as he chews and flicks the page of the newspaper casually. 

 

The mention of boss leads his brain spiralling towards Kurt and sends a small quiver through Blaine as he sips from his mug. He quietly stands from his chair and steps across the kitchen tiles to find some means of breakfast.

 

“There’s bacon still under the grill, and freshly toasted bagels,” Sam chirps from behind him, “Kurt made us some earlier, he’s already ate.” 

 

Blaine took a plate from a shelf and opened up the grill to take the tray with the rashers still warm and crisp. “So you’ve seen him this morning?” Blaine asks as casually as he can muster. He adds a bagel to his plate and grabs the creamed cheese from the refrigerator and knife and makes his way back to his seat.

 

Sam’s already watching him carefully with a small but shrewd smile, nodding his head as Blaine sits back down. “Yup. I think he’s disappeared back into his office or some place. I like your hair by the way, it’s different.”

 

Blaine automatically reaches up to his hair, his fingers gliding through his shower soft curls, styled carefully with minimal product, the way Kurt had taught him. He tries to push down the delicious squirm in his stomach as he remembers the feeling of Kurt’s fingers massaging through his scalp and whispering words into his ear. “Oh um thanks, New Year, new style I guess?”

 

“New. Different. Change. Yes, good, I like it.” Sam says rather thoughtfully with a not too well hidden mischievous grin. Blaine watches him with a furrowed brow as he carefully spreads the knife over one side of his bagel. Quiet, simple and sweet Sam is being far too cryptic for so early in the morning for Blaine’s liking. 

 

He eats in silence as Sam finishes his coffee and huffs out short amused acknowledgments as he idly flicks through the paper. Blaine takes the time to think, and allows the time to dwell. Kurt is obviously avoiding him this morning, they always eat breakfast together, why would he invite Sam up for breakfast and then hide away. Blaine tries to not let the rising feeling of panic swamp his rational way of thinking, he was expecting this, he knew that they couldn’t continue acting the way that they had been for the past week or so, now that their normal work routine is resuming. Blaine shakes off any residual worried feelings and finishes his breakfast, occasionally glancing over Sam’s shoulder and reading snippets from the jokes section.   
Professionalism, Blaine is nothing if not professional, he knows that this is what Kurt will be expecting from him, and Blaine is not about to let Kurt down. 

 

They had enjoyed a rather lovely New Year’s day together, the previous day, mostly spent eating whatever leftovers they could conjure up from the kitchen, huddled together with old movies or what had been building up on the DVR, with Jes conveniently sprawled somewhere between them. They had been mostly quiet with very little words shared between them, only lingering touches and glances of longing and understanding. Nothing needed to be spoken, Blaine didn’t want to ruin the moment, that night they parted in the hallway outside of Blaine’s bedroom with a brush of hands and soft brushes of lips to cheeks and jaw lines. It wasn’t overly passionate but a sweet, delicate gesture, something that made Blaine tingle inside out and had him pressing himself into his mattress with thoughts and memories of Kurt’s sparkling eyes and the gentle caress of his touch.

 

Whether intentionally or wanting to or not, Kurt is definitely unravelling in front of Blaine with each passing minute they spend together, his locked down emotional side opening up and giving Blaine the barest of access. Blaine will wait, Blaine will give Kurt all the time it takes, he will give him anything. 

 

*

 

The ride across town in the morning city traffic was certainly one that Blaine was not looking forward too, honestly speaking. He and Sam had made their way down to the car after breakfast, got in and comfortable and waited for Kurt join to them when he was ready. Blaine didn’t have to go into his office before hand, he had his phone with his and Kurt’s schedules, he didn’t have to take anything with him to the conference this morning. It was just going to be a basic team meeting, welcoming everybody back from the holidays, future plans and proposals to mull over, mostly ran by team managers, account holders and project leaders from all different divisions of Kurt’s many business accolades and ventures, with Kurt nodding tiredly and somewhat bored-like in the background. 

 

The rear passenger door beside Blaine swings open and swiftly and Kurt glides into the car effortlessly onto the plush leather seats. Blaine keeps his head down, his eyes glued to whatever the hell he was looking at on his phone as Kurt saddles up beside him. He smells amazing, and Blaine doesn’t have to see to know that he’ll be looking it too. He can just imagine his hair swept back, a little messily and gorgeous, maybe a slight line of light scruff on his jaw, a sharp fitted suit clinging to his body and some form of Italian leather shoes on his feet. 

 

Oh fuck it, Blaine lets his eyes wander to the side, and yup, the suit is a charcoal grey with a black opened collar shirt and a fucking silk patterned neck tie, bastard. Blaine actually thinks he can also just make out the beginnings of a sneaky smirk playing at the corners of Kurt’s lips but he dare not look properly for fear of dropping his act. Professionalism, Blaine.

 

Sam throws a few not so subtle glances through the rear view mirror as the car crawls through the traffic, occasionally turning up the radio to listen to the traffic and news reports before flicking to a music station and pushing the button to allow the divider to glide up and offering peace and privacy. He usually does that when they are nearing their destination, knowing that Kurt and Blaine may need to discuss some things before their meeting or whatever it is that their doing, he knows that Kurt wouldn’t necessarily mind if he listened in but he mostly chooses not to.

 

Blaine catches a restless flex of Kurt’s fingers which are sitting just above his knee, a short brush away from Blaine’s. Blaine’s lip twitches as he pockets his phone and sits straighter against the leather seat. The silence draws out for just a few more minutes, just bordering on ridiculous before Blaine sucks in a quick breath, rubbing a hand at the nape of his neck.

 

“So we uh, we have those reservations at Eduardo’s at Twelve-thirty, and then there’s-”

 

“The viewing for the showcase at two, and then the conference call at four.” Kurt turns and rolls his eyes playfully, his lips curled at the corners.

 

Blaine mirrors Kurt’s positions and smirks, whilst feigning a look of distaste. “Just doing what you pay me for Mr Hummel.” His voice is low, deep with amusement and teasing. Kurt’s lips lift again, a toothy grin that he’s obviously been fighting breaks through victoriously, his eyes widen and flash and he turns more towards Blaine, their knees knocking gently.

 

“Mr Hummel?”

 

“Yes, that’s you isn’t it?” The humour bounces lightly in Blaine’s tone, something sizzling between them in the heated gaze of their eyes.

 

“Yes. Jackass, but you never call me that, you’ve never called me that once actually.” Blaine’s eyebrows lift lightly as he thinks about this, his lips pursing as he thinks, he doesn’t miss the way Kurt’s eyes cloud over just a smidgen, his expression, playful, almost delighted at the light bickering.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, well I could rectify that I suppose, somehow-”

 

“Don’t be, that’s actually one of the things that drew to me to you during your interview, you said my name, my first name with such surety and confidence, such conviction, whether you felt it or not, it actually surprised me how much I enjoyed hearing it tumble from your lips, to not have somebody try to please and impress with ‘Sir’ or ‘Mister’ right away, though I like how you sparingly use the word occasionally now and then. I found you rather endearing, fascinating actually.” Blaine can hardly breathe at Kurt’s surprising husked ramble, he licks his lips and watches as Kurt edges inwards, shoulders hunching in closer, eyes narrowing, sucking on his bottom lip gently as if forgetting where they are, and who he is, “And how exactly would you rectify it? Enlighten me-”

 

The car pulls to a stop at the sidewalk with a sudden quiet screech, car horns blaring all around them and people bustling past the tinted windows. Kurt shakes himself out of his thoughts and sits up straight just as the door opens and Sam is standing on the other side, an oblivious look pasted across his face, waiting patiently for Kurt to exit. Kurt slips from the car smoothly and Blaine waits for a beat before following with an obnoxious grin gracing his lips, maybe, just maybe everything will be ok.

 

* 

 

The week passes with very little excitement, and the everyday mundane work routine picks up just as normal, only at a more hurried hectic pace. Kurt and Blaine work in and out of their offices, coming and going from the condo daily and getting back on track with their work schedules, trying to cram everything in to get the new working year off to a good start. They work extended hours and attend late dinners, eventually crawling into bed, separate beds, just before the stroke of midnight and up again at the crack of dawn. 

 

By the time the weekend rolls around Blaine’s body is thrumming, his bones heavy and tired, his temples pounding with pent up tension and energy and that’s not to mention the dull throbbing in his groin and the growing need, pooling in the pit of his stomach. Kurt has been teasing him all week, brushing past him at every turn with feather light touches, glancing in his direction at every chance and purring innuendos into his ear whilst trying to draft up some important emails. Blaine had barely had the chance to take care of himself at the end of each night, whilst under his bed sheets, before sleep took over and got the better of him.

 

They need to work something out, if Kurt doesn’t want anything more than ‘casual’ with Blaine but is also not willing to leave him be and doesn’t want anybody else to know anything about it, then they definitely need to arrange some form of game plan. Blaine wants Kurt badly, he needs him. 

 

Saturday evening ends with them sitting at the bar area, enjoying a glass of wine to round off the day, Blaine’s bow tie is undone and Kurt’s tie is already draped over the edge of his stool, collars unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up. It’s Blaine’s favourite look for them, easy and relaxed, casual, undeniably sexy. The wine is seeping through Blaine warm and heavy, causing his eyelids to droop even more than they had been. Any other time Blaine would try and take advantage of this private time with Kurt, knowing that tomorrow is a none working day, but with the week they’ve just had he doesn’t know what his body is capable of and Kurt seems quite content in just sitting with him, in close proximity, with lingering looks and soft brushes of hands as he reaches for his wine glass. 

 

They’re just finishing off going over their schedules for the next week, looking intently down at their phones when Kurt’s goes off with a beep. He’s quiet for a short while as he swipes his thumb across the small screen and scrolls down the page of the email, Blaine’s rather happy just watching his side profile in the dim shadows of the lamp from the living room. Kurt’s brow scrunches, his lips purse like he’s really thinking about something, weighing up his pro’s and con’s and eventually he looks up from the screen, pocketing his phone and draining his glass. 

 

The sharp scrape of Kurt’s stool pushing out against the hard floor as he stands, startles Blaine from his slump against the surface top as he looks up at Kurt, standing before him, watching him with a deep gaze. “There’s um, there’s a thing, in a month or so, a premier for this movie about some designer back in the Sixty’s, I’ve been invited and I uh I think we should go.” Kurt sets his jaw, shoulders squared.

 

Blaine straightens, yes they usually attend whatever Kurt chooses to go to together, that’s his job, but never something as public and high profiled as a movie premier. It’s no secret to Blaine that Kurt chooses these events wisely, he tries to steer clear from direct lime light, and for reasons that Blaine is still trying to work out. This event will no doubt be swarming with other designers, models, actors and actresses all curious to see the biopic, and along with them reporters and cameras to match. 

 

Blaine nods up at Kurt, a small reassuring smile building on his lips, as he watches some tension dissipate from Kurt’s shoulders. He leans in and gently places a kiss to Blaine’s cheek.   
“Thank you.” Blaine can feel the whispered words against the growing whiskers of his jaw line, he closes his eyes at the short soft touch, nodding slowly and weakly, gulping in short even breaths. Kurt feels and smells amazing, finally, this close against him.

 

Blaine cannot deny that if all else fails, Kurt is at least trying, trying in many ways, and the thought settles deeply within the pit of his stomach as he watches the man stride away for the rest of the evening.

 

* 

 

On Sunday morning Blaine is lying in bed, allowing himself to wake up naturally but knowing that he needs to get up soon unless he wants a close encounter with Santana who will no doubt be arriving with bells on at any giving moment. She hadn’t turned up during the week, and so he’s ready for her with full force. He’s thinking of ways of how to get Kurt alone, wondering what he’ll be up to and how to kindly ‘proposition’ him for lack of a better word, when his work phone buzzes over on the side table. He reaches out for it, a little perplexed, because its Sunday and don’t people know to leave him alone on Sunday’s, he swipes at the screen, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, eyes widening when he sees the notification window and reads the message.

 

Kurt P  
09.11  
Meet me down in the gym, pronto. K

 

Blaine’s grin can only be described as ‘shit eating’ as he settles up higher against his pillows, his chest thumping with excitement and curiosity, and his morning erection for that matter.

 

Blaine Work  
09.11  
Kurt P? As in Kurt ‘Private’? Is this a work related emergency?? ;)

 

Blaine is fully aware that there would be no emergency, save for that of needing to rip each others clothes off. He’s already sliding out of bed and into his closet when the phone vibrates in his hand with a reply.

 

Kurt P  
09.12  
Ha. Smartass. Santana seldom ventures down here…hurry!

 

It’s Sunday therefore Blaine forgoes any need for underwear, slips into a pair of loose work out sweats and a tank top, steps into a pair of sneakers and goes into his en-suite to brush his teeth.

 

Blaine work  
09.14  
Yes Sir!

 

*

 

When Blaine finds Kurt only a very short while later, through a hazy glass door, it takes all that he has in him to stop from coming right on the spot. Kurt’s propped up lazily against the tiled wall of the small gym steam room, a white towel wrapped around his waist, skin glistening with clean sweat, chin tipped back and eyes closed, pink lips parted. Blaine strips out of his clothes grabs a towel of his own from the changing area and quietly enters the room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click and taking a seat on the stone bench just opposite Kurt. 

 

Kurt blinks an eye open at him, ducking his chin downwards and cracking a lazy smile, “Good morning.” His voice is like velvet, soft and teasing, Blaine tips his head in greeting, eyes hooded. “I thought we could use a bit of a relaxation after a long and hard week. Blaine hums deeply in response. “Thank you, by the way, for all that you’ve done this week.”

 

“It’s what I’m here for.” Blaine says casually, though as the words leave his lips he’s aware of the multi-meaning behind them, and he’s sure Kurt is too. Kurt tilts his head as if thinking this over, his eyes hooded and hazed in the small rapidly growing too hot room.   
Blaine feels his gaze seep right through to his core, but isn’t sure if taking the man right there and then on the floor is the best thing to do, yet. He quickly changes topic. “Have you seen San today?”

 

Kurt’s mouth pulls up into a smirk as he shakes his head slowly, “No, she’ll be pissed, wanting to grill us no doubt.”

 

“Are you completely opposed to telling her?” Kurt seems to consider this deeply, before eventually tilting his chin and looking at Blaine curiously.

 

“What do we say?” Blaine swallows an immediate response, he honestly doesn’t know, he was kind of hoping that Kurt would give a little, divulge in more words than that, but obviously not. However he knows that Kurt is well aware that Santana is not stupid, she will know fine well if something’s been going down between them, no pun intended. He takes Kurt’s not so direct answer as a one of un-surety, an unknown, and in Blaine’s book that is better than a simple no. He decides not to answer, he doesn’t know how, and instead goes with something a little more crafty.

 

“Had she expected something to happen between us over Christmas?” Kurt eyes Blaine carefully, his smirk slowly starting to slip into a tight press of lips, eventually he arches an eyebrow and gives a look of ‘what do you think?’  
“Did you expect something to happen between us?” Blaine doesn’t really know where this line of questioning had fired from, but now seems a good of a time as any to bring it up. He’s not going to push Kurt, he know what he promised him, but he’s also not going to idly sit by and wait for something to happen between them. Kurt would not have invited him down here and wrapped his glistening beautiful body in nothing but a towel if he hadn’t of intended to take their ‘what ever it was they were doing’ any further. 

 

Kurt dips his chin and offers a shy smile, “I don’t expect anything Blaine.” Oh he’s choosing his words carefully is he, ok well Blaine can do that too.

 

“Did you want something to happen between us?” Kurt offers another ‘obviously’ look and lowers his voice, his eyes smouldering, trying to bat off a smile that just won’t quit.

 

“You know that I did.” 

 

“And now?” Kurt snorts a short laugh and offers yet another one of those looks, only this time it’s mixed with ‘are you serious?’ 

 

“Now, as in right now, here in the steam room now?” Blaine tips his head back with a grin and a chuckle and rubs his palms over his knees, the heat in the room is rising between them and it’s not just because of the steam. 

 

“No, I mean I guess that, that is pretty obvious,” Kurt snickers at this, Blaine smiles and continues, “You know what I mean, how is this going to work between us, just a weekend thing? Just an ‘I’ll text you to sneak out of your bedroom window after dark’ thing?” Blaine is smiling still when he says this, only half teasing but he can see the shift in Kurt’s emotions as he rings his wrists at the sides of his towel clad thighs.

 

Eventually Kurt looks at him with stormy eyes, “Would it be a good enough answer for you if I said yes and no, No I don’t want to limit this, us, to any time frame and yes I’ll come to you when I want you, but you should know that I always want you Blaine, you can count on that, trust me.” Blaine does, that’s the problem, Blaine trusts too much. Kurt grins lightly, his words rolling from his tongue deep and seductively, Blaine can tell that he’s trying to keep his tone is light, but as usual his body posture and the glint in his eyes are betraying him.

 

Kurt suddenly stands, the towel delectably unravelling and inching downwards from his hips as he strides in short steps across the small room and slowly lowers himself onto Blaine’s lap. He glides his fingers through the moist tendrils at the nape of Blaine’s neck, pulling his head back and leaning down, he presses his lips to Blaine’s jaw, mouthing, achingly soft and slow, sucking at his moist warm skin. “How’s that for an answer for you?” 

 

Kurt’s breath blows warm and damp and across Blaine’s cheek, his cock just starting to peak out from the drifting towel grows hard and pulsing between their sweaty tight stomachs and Blaine can’t help but groan a response. He feels himself growing hard also, desperately trying to rise against the thick of the towel still wrapped around him. Kurt’s fingers trail down his stomach, tantalising, as he leaves feather light kisses along Blaine’s jaw and neckline, nipping at his collarbone as he settles himself backwards, the towel finally dropping from his hips and to the tiles with a dull slick sound, exposing all of his gleaming creamy skin and tones muscles. 

 

Finally Kurt’s fingers land on the knot of Blaine’s towel, and as the cloth comes undone Kurt takes him between his fingers, rubbing and against Kurt’s own straining cock, Blaine can’t do much more than whimper weakly in his throat, strained and hoarse.

 

“God yes, so good, yes Kurt, anything, please.” Kurt grins as he brushes his lips against Blaine’s, pumping his fist harder and tighter. They both know that he’s not just talking about Kurt’s hand wrapped possessively around him and his tongue sliding its way into his mouth relentlessly, unforgiving, un-forgetful. 

 

*

 

“Nice to see you guys have left me all of the good jobs.” Blaine smirks as he looks up at the now open doorway where Santana is standing, looking as put together as always, in a blue fitted shirt, slim cut jeans and hair up in a high pony.

 

“Nice to see you too San, Happy New Year.” She grins, rolling her eyes and steps in the room, closing the door behind her and perches on the edge of his bed, he has to bend his knees and pull his feet up to avoid his toes getting crushed. He thought he’d managed to successfully avoid this particular meeting. When he and Kurt had finished downstairs, god knows how long later, Kurt had slinked away with flushed cheeks, glazed blue-green eyes and gorgeous god awful messy hair, leaving Blaine breathless sated, and wanting more, always wanting more.

 

Blaine had decided to hide out downstairs for a little longer, to avoid the two being caught appearing together with less than put together appearances, and so he hit the treadmill for a hour or so, before the need for a shower became too much, and he’s been hiding out in his room ever since. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, you too short stuff, I gotta admit, I have actually missed your face.” She nods towards his drying hair. “Cute curls.” Blaine puts the book he had been reading down beside him on the bed, and crosses his legs, lacing his fingers in his lap and grinning widely. 

 

“By the way, you get paid for those ‘good jobs’, I don’t.” Santana’s dark eyes widen and flash with something downright menacing and playful, her toothy grin grows wide and she quirks a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as she settles herself more comfortably on Blaine’s bed.

 

“Oh no? I would beg to differ. And seriously, I do not get paid to fluff couch cushions and renew them of any ass prints.” Blaine almost chokes on air as he tries to look away, he also does not want to draw any attention to the fact that Santana may well be correct, but he can hardly believe it, he and Kurt had been very thorough with their clean up and inspection of the condo on New Years day. 

 

He schools his features into something stern like and hits Santana’s smug grinning face with a narrow gaze as he looks up, “You do not, you didn’t-oh shut up Santana, that is not even true.” 

 

“Oh please, I’m not stupid, so don’t insult me, but don’t worry I wont talk about it, I know what he’s like, he’s been avoiding me like the plague also, I’m just happy for you that’s all, for him, he deserves this, he needs somebody like you.” Santana’s face changes then, her eyes soften as they search Blaine’s face, but searching for what Blaine doesn’t know.

 

Blaine gulps, he doesn’t know why he feels the need to say something about it, but he just does. “You know we, we um haven’t uh, it’s just fooling around you know.”

 

“Oh please spare me the gory details, I know exactly how far you and his highness have gone, Kurt cares deeply about these things, it means a lot him, this stuff, more than you’ll probably know, so believe when I say that it’s not just fooling around, not to him, he cares, he’s protective.” 

 

Blaine’s chest thumps as he listens carefully, his skin prickling as he absorbs her words, trying to decipher them exactly. He tries not to read too much into what Santana is telling him but she has no reason to lie to him, he can believe her undoubtedly. 

 

“What happened to him Santana? I know you don’t want to betray his trust, and don’t worry I don’t expect you to, just give me a little something to work with, he is starting to open up with me, whether he knows it or not, but he is and it’s great, but it’s slow, and honestly at times I just don’t know which way to turn with him, what he expects of me and wants me to do, but he wants me to do something, I know that much. God it’s exhausting, but I can’t give up with him, no matter how long it takes, I can’t let go of what I feel for him, I want-he’s just-”

 

“Hey, hey its ok, I know.” Santana reaches forward and gently squeezes Blaine’s wrist with her finger tips, cutting off his unexpected tirade, she’s smiles softly. “Believe me you’ve said enough, like I said he deserves you, someone to care for him this way, and you’ve pretty much hit the nail on the head, that idiot just needs time to sort his shit out.”

 

“Yeah Carole mentioned something about him just needing time too-”

 

“Carole?”

 

“Yeah, she came for the holidays-”

 

“Oh and how was that for you?” Santana says with a snicker, “I can imagine it would have been…cosy.” Blaine smirks knowing what she’s implying.

 

“Actually it was pretty great, she was a lot of fun to have around, it was nice to see Kurt with family.” Santana nods in understanding.

 

“You know this thing with his dad, its not as big or ridiculous as what he makes it out to be, Kurt got all high and mighty, drunk with power and money, he was a different person to who he is now, still just a kid mad at the world, his dad tried to bring him down a peg or two and he’s resented him for it ever since. He’ll tell you about it himself soon, I know he will, you’re right he is opening up to you, there is something about you that nobody else apart from us Ohioan’s has, for some reason he’s choosing you to help him out of his funk and that’s all that matters.” Santana stands, leaving Blaine to mull things over.

 

Blaine looks up at her, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully, “You know, we’re um, we’re going to this big movie premier thing together, in a few months, he asked me, told me about it last night.” Santana folds her arms across her chest and whistles under her breath.

 

“You see, prince gay, progress, he plus you equals good things, keep it up.” 

 

Blaine laughs heartedly, and throws himself back against his pillows as Santana steps over to the door and pulls at the handle. They don’t hear the swift and soft retreating footfalls from the other side, nor can they see the small defeated, bashful smile spreading slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thank you all for being patient once again and for all of your comments and reviews. Sorry for the lateness, I’m trying to get back on track now, but there still may be a small delay with the next few updates. I think an extra chapter or so may have to be added also, we’ll see ;) Thanks again, hope you enjoyed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I know, I have no idea where this sprang from either, but here it is so I hope you enjoy :) let me know. Thank you and it looks like there maybe is going to a be a few extra sneaky chapters.

There’s an envelope waiting for Blaine on his desk when he gets down there early one weekday morning. It’s not his birthday until next month so he knows that it’s not for that, the envelope is small and scarlet red and his name is scrawled across the front in a familiar cursive font, he knows what this is.  
He splits open the seal and slides the card out, grinning at the cute little kitten giving large cartoon like heart eyes to a puppy dog. Blaine opens the card up and reads the words ‘Be my valentine’ inside and underneath that familiar scrawl is there once again.

 

From your secret admirer… x 

 

He grins harder and tucks the card into his desk drawer, he hears quiet footsteps and the subtle creak of floorboards behind him. He leans over to switch his screen monitor on, “Secret admirer huh?” 

 

“What’s that?” Kurt’s words behind him are soft and quiet, his tone simple and teasing. Blaine rolls his eyes, unable to contain his smirk as his computer boots up and he logs into his work profile.

 

“I have a secret admirer, apparently.” There’s more soft sounds of gentle footfalls and then a warm breath, minty fresh blows around the sensitive shell of his ear, his nostrils are filled with a familiar scent of shampoo and soap and cologne, and there’s a gentle pressure, a warm presence against his back, slightly towering.

 

“Oh, he’s a lucky guy.” Blaine slowly turns on the spot as two arms frame him from either side, bracing against the edge of his desk. Blaine resists the urge to lean in and take Kurt’s lips between his own and kiss the smirk off of his face.

 

“He is?” Kurt nods, his nose gently brushing alongside Blaine’s, his eyes positively alight. It’s early, their first real plans for the day is a small store opening, and isn’t scheduled until later in the morning, followed by a fitting for their suits for the upcoming premier in a month or so. There isn’t much to catch up on around the office, and Kurt seems to be in a brave, playful mood. Blaine will milk it for all that its worth. 

 

“I’d say so, yes.” Blaine smiles, his heart thumping, he can’t peel his eyes away from Kurt’s lips, they’re rounded and plump and pink and just there. He clears his throat.

 

“Do um, do you think that he has a secret admirer too? Do you think I have competition?” Kurt’s eyes flash playfully, his face flooding with surprise at Blaine’s brazenness, but Kurt is nothing if not victorious, he’ll seldom back down, not at this stage in their ‘relationship’ if Blaine could be so foolish as to call it that. 

 

“Oh no, I don’t think anyone would be brave enough to ever try and compete with you, it would be madness.” He drawls, eye lids and long lashes fluttering innocently. Blaine smirks and raises his arms to bend around and rest against Kurt’s shoulders, as his hands and fingers entwine around his neck, drawing him down and closer to Blaine’s. 

 

“I’m glad you think so.” He whispers as Kurt’s lips finally mould against his, swallowing his breathless gasp. Things have certainly developed in the past month, bravery has a took turn for the downright daring and whether it be work hours or not, if its just the two of them in the private confines of the condo when Kurt is sure there will be no surprise visits, he’s been finding it harder and harder to keep away from Blaine.

 

Blaine closes his eyes as his body melds and fits perfectly against Kurt’s and their lips brush against each others over and over. The slight fuzz of Kurt’s jaw rubs against Blaine’s freshly shaven skin, it feels almost too pleasurable and Kurt moans high and breathy and delicious into Blaine’s mouth. The buzzer system out in the main hall sounds, alerting them that somebody is downstairs wanting access to the elevator to come up. Blaine smirks as Kurt pulls back startled, eyes wide, cheeks tinged pink and his lips slack and kiss swollen. 

 

Blaine watches with a sly grin as Kurt strides off out of the office whilst running a hand through his hair, he can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees the delivery guy on the other end of the small TV screen with a big bouquet of flowers, of yellows and reds waiting for him. 

 

*

 

“A little birdie tells me that it’s your birthday this weekend.” Kurt says as Blaine comes back into the office, two cups of coffee in his hands, and a packet of cookies under one arm. 

 

“That little birdie would be correct.” Blaine leans forward to place one of the cups down in front of Kurt on his desk and lets the foil packet slip from under his bicep. “Would that little birdie also be known as your employee personal record database by any chance?” He teases as he brings his own cup up to his lips.

 

Kurt glances away from his screen, up to Blaine and smirks, he tears open the corner of the cookie packet and pulls one out, “That would be correct.” He volleys back in mock tone, before biting into the crumbling chocolate buttery base.

 

Blaine smiles and sits down in his seat on the other side of Kurt’s desk, “I strongly fail to believe how that is fair, I had no way of knowing about your birthday until Santana suddenly announced impromptu drinks and our hangovers the next working day were ones to go down in history.” 

 

Kurt smirks rather smugly, “Yes well if I’d had it my way, we wouldn’t have done anything at all, there’s no way of stopping that girl, she’s like a freaking Latina ninja with psychic powers I swear.” Blaine chuckles, he rubs his finger around the edge of his coffee mug, a little lost in thought. 

 

“Well I’m still a little mad that I couldn’t give you anything-”

 

“Oh you give me plenty, don’t worry, I don’t need anything else.” Their eyes catch over the rim of the piping hot mugs, and there’s a moment there, a moment of reverent silence. A moment when one look can speak volumes, and when Blaine actually feels like he can see deep into Kurt’s soul from the window of his eyes. Blaine swallows hard, momentary unable to pull words up from his throat. 

 

“So,” Kurt decides to do the hard work for him, something rather noble and makes Blaine’s heart pound in his chest even harder. “Getting back to your birthday, what are your plans? Should we make reservations? Or we could do something here, maybe ask Sam and Santana if they wanted to join, um you know maybe, or just whatever?” 

 

“Oh,” Blaine straightens in his seat, dark eyebrows almost shooting up to his hairline. A warmth spreads through his chest, causing his heart to tighten and pound again, his eyes soften as he looks at Kurt, clearly flustered and bewildered with his own words and sentiment. “I um,” He fumbles, placing his cup down and fidgets with a nearby stapler on the desktop, “That sounds awesome, I’d love to, um thank you, but I, well I didn’t know that you’d want to do something and well my mom has made me promise to visit with them, they bought me a ticket for my birthday, I don’t think they’ll let me out of this one, this time.” He shrugs and his face falls as Kurt visibly deflates on the other side of his desk. 

 

Damn. Of course there are a million and one other things he’d rather do on his birthday weekend then spend it with his family, and Kurt actually suggesting to celebrate together would be number fucking one. But no matter how much he wants that, wants to be with Kurt and his new friends, he can’t let his family down. No matter how many times he may have felt let down by them in the past, he made a promise, and he hasn’t seen them in so long, he owes this to them, even if it’s just this once. 

 

“Oh of course, yes, of course you’ll be going back to Ohio-”

 

“LA actually, um my parents, they actually enjoyed themselves when they spent Christmas with Cooper, so they suggested that I meet them out there.”

 

“Oh great, yeah that sounds nice-”

 

“Yeah, well it’s my weekend off, so I’ll be heading out there on Friday afternoon, of course I’ll wait until we’re done here-”

 

“Oh Blaine don’t be so silly, we have nothing much planned, nothing that cant be postponed, it’s your birthday, take Friday off, get out there and have some fun, get some heat.”

 

“You could come?” Blaine doesn’t know where it comes from, the words are building up and the question is out before he has any control over the situation. Introducing Kurt to his parents and Cooper could be one of the most embarrassing and awful experiences ever, what would he even say, ‘This is Kurt, my boss, and sort of best friend, and we mess around and I’m crazy about him, but nobody knows.’ Yeah it was a downright stupid thing to suggest, but still and for no good or understandable reason, hope floods his chest. The idea of it all, whatever the hell that may be, blooms brightly within him. 

 

He dares a glance at Kurt, expecting to be shot down with some excuse, fully prepared for someway of turning him down, something that would be perfectly reasonable of course, but all he finds when he peers into those glasz like orbs, is a look of deep genuine consideration. 

 

Kurt purses his lips, even a finger tip raising to rest against them, whilst he appears lost in thought. Blaine is quiet, silently pleading, his chest thumping as he watches the man in front of him. Kurt’s features and expressions waver and mix in a variety of different ways over the next few seconds, he’s truly thinking this one over, it must mean more to him than ever imaginable if he’s needing to take the time to think it through. But once again that internal battle that he always seems to have with himself comes into play and when his head finally pulls back up to level with Blaine’s, his eyes are downcast and clouded, brows furrowed.

 

“Um, no, thank you, but no, I um I can’t.” Blaine tries not to let the deflation appear too obvious, his shoulders sag lightly in defeat and he picks up his mug, eyes peering into the dark rich liquid just to give himself something to do. He could question Kurt’s reasoning, he could try to fight him and persuade him otherwise. Kurt seems to like that, when Blaine challenges him and makes him rethink, makes him look at things in a different way. But not on this, Blaine decides to nobly back down from this one, knowing that it probably won’t do any good, come on why would Kurt want to spend time with his family, of course he doesn’t want to come, maybe Kurt would like the little break away from Blaine.

 

Blaine shakes himself out his thoughts before he starts jumping to ridiculous conclusions and finally looks back up at Kurt.  
“Oh yes, of course, um that’s fine, of course you cant come, sorry I don’t know why I-”

 

“Blaine.” Kurt reaches out and folds his hand over Blaine’s, his fingers squeezing against his skin, cutting him off with a soft gasp of breath. Kurt leans forward over the desk, tugging Blaine closer. “I just, it’s, I can’t, it wouldn’t be right, not yet. We’ll do something when you get back ok, just you and me.” His voice is quiet but dripping with promise, his eyes glowing with sincerity, everything about Kurt in this moment is utterly whole and sincere and Blaine holds his words, he’ll keep them safe and locked down until he returns. 

 

You and me. He and Kurt. 

 

*

 

“Boy oh boy, look at those curls huh, who in the world is special enough to pry you away from your beloved hair gel.” Cooper ruffles his hand into Blaine’s hair as he walks past and slumps down onto the couch beside him, causing the cushions to bump up and down. 

 

Blaine bats his hand away and nudges his shoulder into his brother’s, “Hey Coop.” He tries to sound dejected, but he can’t contain his smirk and the slight lilt to his tone. His older brother may be somewhat of an ass at times, and especially more so over the years when they were younger but he loves him all the same and always revels in the way he feels like a boy again in his presence. 

 

“Hey squirt, good to see you,” Cooper gives him his diamond smile, the one that is the reason why he is constantly hired for short ad’s and small modelling shoots, it may not be big bucks but it’s work, and in LA, he’s obviously doing something right.  
“You guys get here from the airport ok?” Cooper looks across his small open plan apartment where their parents are over in the kitchen, his mother trying to work out how to switch on the coffee machine and his father just looking like he’s getting in the way mostly. 

 

Their father, a short man with black hair which could be called slightly receding, peers over the counter top at his two sons. Blaine has obviously definitely inherited his mother’s native genetics and also her personality, whilst his brother has taken his chiselled appearance from his father who could have been a model back in his younger days, but accountancy obviously seemed more fun to him. Cooper’s personality however, is something that he has developed from nobody but himself.

 

“Oh yeah son, fine, at least the cab driver wasn’t as crazy as the time we visited Blaine over in Queens-”

 

“Oh yeah,” Cooper interrupts, voice booming with an arm stretching out behind his brother’s shoulders. “Speaking of that, where the hell is your Queens apartment baby bro, you’re living in Manhattan now?” Blaine blows out a steadying breath, readying himself for this conversation. He nods slowly, glancing over to the kitchen where his dad is looking disinterested and his mom is busy peering into Cooper’s kitchen’s cupboards. Oh man, he so should have stayed back in New York with Kurt.

 

“Um yeah, I uh I live with my boss, I’m a personal assistant, now.”

 

“Oh wow, that’s…different but cool,” Cooper turns in his seat, his long legs knocking into Blaine’s uncomfortably, his face a wide smiling mask of enthusiasm. “Is she hot? Not like you’d care but-”

 

Blaine’s tries not to laugh, Cooper although a lot of years older than Blaine is like a child, and laughing would only encourage him. He glances over to the kitchenette where his father is now sitting at the table and his mother is frowning at whatever she has found in Cooper’s fridge. The pair of them oblivious to the current conversation, why do they even care about visiting with their sons if they’re not going to at least act interested. 

 

“Um,” Blaine switches back to his brother, “Well he’s a guy-”

 

“Oh, well then you would care if he’s hot or not. Is he?” Cooper waggles his eyebrows and Blaine feels a blush creep up his neck. 

 

“Oh have you not seen him in those magazines Cooper, what’s his name again Blaine? Kip, Kirk, Kirk Humden-”

 

“Woah woah woah, Kurt Hummel? The designer Kurt Hummel? You work for him, you’re living with him?” Blaine can only sit silently, as his brother continues to swat at his knee, his jaw hanging open incredulously. His mom never listens ninety percent of the time, but this, this, she listens to and remembers and decides to pipe up. 

 

Blaine stills Cooper’s hand trying to swipe at him, “I-yes, yes Kurt is my boss and-”

 

Cooper punches his shoulder as he tries to face away from him, “No freaking way, Blaine, why have you not hooked us up?” 

 

“I-wait what?” 

 

“Put us in contact, Blaine that guy has like a thousand connections, he could get me a job, he could hire me, I could model for him-” And Blaine thought that inviting Kurt this weekend was an appropriate thing to do. Blaine turns and faces his brother once more, keeping his arms pinned to his sides with his hands.

 

“Cooper calm yourself, I can’t do that, I can’t jeopardize my job, and honestly I wouldn’t know where to start, but if Kurt ever asks me for any recommendations or if I know anybody who would be interested in working for him in some shape of form, then you’re first on my list, how about that?” Cooper listens to his brother, nodding his head slowly with wide eyes, and then he starts grinning and claps his hands together, obviously easily placated. 

 

“That’s what I’m talking about, that’s why we’re brothers.” Blaine just smiles tightly and nods, his mother wanders over with a tray of mugs and a glass coffee jar and his father mutters something in the background about biscuits and possibly something about designers. She places two cups in front of the boys on the coffee table, filling them up and wanders away again. 

 

Blaine is just about to lift his coffee to his lips, when Cooper suddenly snaps his fingers in his direct line vision, causing Blaine to startle and almost drop his cup, murmuring a juicy curse under his breath. “That’s it, it’s him isn’t, Kurt’s the reason why you didn’t come see us for Christmas, he’s why your not wearing hair gel?” Cooper swipes his fingers through Blaine’s hair before he’s abruptly pushed away.

 

Cooper holds his hands up in mock defence as Blaine rolls his eyes, “Hey he’s a hot guy, I get it, I can totally see why we never hear from you anymore.” Blaine shakes his head and stands to join his parents at the table with his coffee. “Hey Blaine?” Blaine turns his head back to his brother, hoping that something different or most importantly sensible is going to come from his mouth.

 

“Yes Cooper?” 

 

“What did he get you for your birthday? Was it awesome? Can you sell it on EBay, I would totally sell that shit on EBay.” Blaine spins back around in his seat, shaking his head and looking down into his coffee. Birthday weekend or not, this may just be the longest weekend of his life, with his ass-hat brother and mostly disinterested parents, but the truth of the matter is, they’re family, and whether they show it in the best ways or not, his family love him, and Blaine can’t help but grin a little. 

 

*

 

Blaine wakes up on an unfamiliar mattress under his back, he stretches his arms above his head and wrinkles his toes which peak out from under the to light duvet, his shoulders crack and the muscles in his lower back ache. His skin feels too warm, sweaty and moist dressed in a cotton button down shirt and loose trousers, he groans at the feel of the clingy fabric wrapped too hot and tight around his body, he can’t remember the last time he wore PJ’s to bed, and actually kept them on, all night. He has a certain somebody to mostly thank for that.

 

A delicious familiar ache starts to swirl around deep and low in his stomach, as his mind starts to provide some useful images and memories to help accompany his morning…situation. He moves a hand slowly under the covers, fingers inching towards the waistline of his PJ pants just as he eventually cracks his eyes open. He almost jumps right out of his skin with an unmanly gasp and a shriek, his hand flying out of his pants with a harsh snap back against his skin, if he wasn’t already lying down, he’d swear he would have fallen right down onto his ass. 

 

He remembers now, he’s in LA for the weekend, staying in Cooper’s apartment with his parents. He’s lying on an air mattress on Cooper’s bedroom floor, and Cooper is currently towering above him by his feet, holding out a muffin with a lit candle sticking out of the top and an almighty grin plastered on his face. Oh yes and it’s his birthday. 

 

Cooper cooks breakfast for everyone later that morning and they sit at the table to enjoy it altogether, civilised and surprisingly family like. Blaine opens his birthday cards and giggles at the humorous drawings and limericks, he already has his gift from his mom and dad, his return ticket, and doesn’t expect much else. His family are wealthy, they’re not hard done by, but they just don’t express themselves through gifts, especially not now there are no children in the family. He unwraps a bottle of Jack Daniels from Cooper with a mischievous grin and quirk of an eyebrow and his father tells him about a website with the best rates for stocks and shares, as if it’s the best thing Blaine will ever hear, Blaine nods along using his best acting skills. When everything is cleaned and tidied away his mother sets about baking a birthday cake, asking their father to head to the corner store to pick up some ingredients and Cooper offers to take Blaine out on to the beach and show him some sights. 

 

They’re strolling along the beach, barefoot with the warm grains covering and sliding between their toes, with a rather large ice cream cone each and dark shades perched on their noses. The early afternoon sun, even while still early in the year is boring down hot and bright, it washes over Blaine’s skin and he can’t help but feel relaxed. For the first time in a long time he’s starting to feel a little accomplished, he’s happy again. He finds it fascinating, remembering back to his college years when nobody could tell him any different, when he couldn’t get enough of singing and performing, when all he wanted was to hear a crowd screaming his name and echoing his lyrics written by his own hand from his own head and heart. He can’t understand that so many months and years later, here he is, so far from that life yet still feeling happy, he never knew there could be another option for him. 

 

Yes Blaine still loves music, he always will, when his fingers are not gliding over the keys of a piano or entwined with guitar strings, he will always miss the feeling, it’s just something that’s engrained within him, music flows within his blood. He’s not giving up, Blaine Anderson does not give up, but now he’s able to understand that he has a different direction to take, a new path. He’s old enough now to realize that it’s not be all and end all, life will not end when one chapter of his life closes, its expands and creates room for growth and for more. 

 

Blaine’s life, his heart has learnt how to make room for somebody like Kurt, somebody who he didn’t know he could feel so attached to. He loves his job with Kurt, he loves how it feels to be needed by him, to be depended upon, he loves having his opinions valued and his work appreciated. Blaine’s heart still flips in his chest when he remembers the musical instruments sitting in the study, the ones that Kurt had put there, for Blaine. He’s been in there a few times since discovering them, when he has a few spare moments, when it’s quiet and nobody’s around. He looses himself in the feel of the polished wood and plastic, the melodies that build from his fingers flow around him and he’s always teleported somewhere else, a whole new headspace. No, Blaine will never forget this love and this passion, he can’t, but he can redirect it, he can find a new outlet for it, he can think of some way to interweave his old life with his new, his old love with a new one, if he should be so bold to let that that word even enter his head. 

 

Cooper is busy giving Blaine a rather detailed story about his latest encounter with a kind of co-star whilst walking alongside the blue sloshing waves, Blaine is zoning in and out of the conversation, half stuck in his head and half giggling and a little repulsed at what Cooper is telling him when he feels his phone buzz in the pocket of his khaki shorts. 

 

He licks at his hand where his ice cream has started to melt and dribble and fishes his phone out. He’s not at work, he’s not even in New York, but he still couldn’t bear to leave his work phone locked away and switched off all weekend. He’s never spent so much time away since he started the job, and there was something slightly uneasy about being so far away from it all, with no means of knowing what’s going on, you know, just in case. He unlocks the screen and reads the message with a slow building grin. 

 

Kurt P  
12.41  
A very Happy Birthday to you! ... Sorry for being a little late in the day, didn’t want to interrupt family time. Hope you’re having a great weekend. Jes says hello, well he says meow. K 

 

Blaine’s skin feels light and tingly, he feels giddy for some reason, it’s just a freaking text message. His fingers skim over the screen like lightening tapping out a response.

 

Blaine Work  
12.41  
Thank you. Yes it’s…nice, no really it actually is, crazy I know. You could never interrupt anything Kurt. Meow back to Jester for me, hope you’re having a good weekend also and not working!?! B x

 

It’s one of those moments when your brain and your muscles and limbs work in alliance with each other and your body has gone and done something before you even give permission for it to happen. He pushes send before he can backspace and delete the X. Oh what the hell, the pair have been more than intimate with each other over the past months, what the hell is a little textual kiss going to do, grow up.

 

Kurt P  
12.42  
Me? Not Work? Who do you think I am! I’m bored and you’re not around, there’s nothing else to do… no pun intended!   
P.S Why do you have your work phone with you? *Pot calling Kettle*. K x

 

Blaine feels his cheeks grow warm, and he can’t wipe the grin from his face. By this point his ice cream is pretty much melting all over his hand and upon noticing this Cooper kindly takes the cone from him and finishes it in a record amount of time.   
He allows himself to perform an internal happy dance, re-reading the message over and over, his eyes falling over the little X that Kurt had so fucking adorably decided to copy from Blaine and add. 

 

Blaine Work  
12.42  
If I didn’t have it with me then how could we communicate right now? Cooper is trying to get you to hire him by the way, don’t’ worry I’ve contained him for the time being…x

 

Kurt P  
12.43  
Oh I have my ways. Thank you for that, one Anderson is enough for me. K…x

 

Blaine smile’s at the message, he can picture Kurt smiling down at his phone as he reads and types, an ache pulls deep within him, he can’t place this feeling, he cant understand this deep need and longing. He glances over to Cooper to find him silently staring at him, his megawatt smile firmly in place and even though he’s wearing shades Blaine knows that his blue eyes will be sparkling mischievously, all too knowing. Cooper may be a dumb jackass at times, but he’s older now, they’re both not just kids anymore, or annoying young siblings. Cooper is wise and strangely knowledgeable in some areas, and if nothing else he’s his brother, he just knows him. 

 

“It’s him isn’t it?” Blaine glances around self consciously, a sudden feeling of panic washes over him. Kurt is a high profiled character, he’s well known, and Blaine is in LA, with his brother who is less than subtle and would do just about anything to make it big. “Hey, hey dude.” His face must be completely readable because suddenly Cooper is standing right in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a light shake. 

 

“Cooper I, it’s he’s-”

 

“Hey I know, it’s cool, you don’t want all of the publicity and neither does he, I get it, I wont blather, I promise,” Cooper lifts his shades to rest atop his head, letting Blaine look deeply into his eyes, something about it calms Blaine, like Cooper is desperately trying to show his honestly and loyalty through the depths of his eyes.  
“But B, you’re gonna get it anyway though, you know that right? Working for somebody like him, you’re gonna be in the spotlight.” Cooper squeezes his shoulder reassuringly and Blaine for whatever stupid reason feels a warm sting press behind his eyelids. He thinks about the reporter from the fashion event and the upcoming premier and nods weakly.

 

“I know Coop, I kind of already am, we’ve had experiences with the press, I know how to handle them now, sort of, it’s, it’s just with me and him, I don’t know what’s going on between us but-”

 

“Its ok squirt,” Cooper squeezes again and smiles brightly, “I get it, I know, you don’t have to explain-”

 

“Cooper how can you know? I don’t even know what’s going on.” Blaine sighs, slightly exasperated.

 

“You like him yes?”

 

“Well, yeah, of course,” Like an obscene amount “but I-”

 

“And he likes you back yes?”

 

“Well yeah, I mean I think so, I don’t, I mean yes he does-”

 

“Then you gotta just trust in that and let things play out. I hope that you don’t get yourself hurt in all of this little bro, but I’ve never seen you in such a tizzy about anybody quite like this before, so it must be special.”   
Blaine lets Cooper’s words, sink in for a moment. He has always trusted in Kurt to not break his heart, to not hurt him, that is something that he decided upon almost instantly long ago, he won’t start doubting it now.   
“Blaine, I know that we don’t talk an awful lot now, and I don’t know what’s going on with you or how you even got to where you are now, but I hope that you’re happy, sometimes love and take that word however way you wish, it changes you, you can change what you love, love is adaptable, and just pay no mind to nobody else, as long as you know what you want and you’re currently living your life the way you want to, screw everything else, as long as you have a handle on things yourself.” 

 

Blaine feels the sting at the back of his eyes once again, mixed with a sudden warmth flood through and fill his chest. Cooper starts speaking again not giving him time to react or respond. “And listen, I know that you may not see or hear of those kids you used to hang around with back in school or college or whatever, but that’s ok, they don’t define you, nothing defines you B, just shoot them a quick text now and then you know, just say hey, don’t ever be ashamed or embarrassed, as long your happy remember?”

 

Blaine rubs at the back of his neck, trying to stifle a sniffle. God how can Cooper, suddenly just get him, how can he suddenly just know. He finally calms himself enough to look back at his brother and punch him playfully in the chest. “When did you get so smart Coop?” He teases and laughs ducking out of the way when Cooper tries to get him in some sort of head lock. 

 

Eventually they part and playfully push each other away with breathless giggles and carry on walking up the beach front, Cooper mumbles something about needing an iced latte whilst looking around for a vender. Blaine feels the weight of his phone still curled protectively in his palm, remembers the open message box and unlocks the screen. He takes a deep breath whilst typing quickly. Trust. 

 

Blaine Work  
12.49  
I miss you. X

 

He doesn’t even get time to lock his phone and put it away when it buzzes in his hand, and a new message pops up instantly.

 

Kurt P  
12.49  
I miss you too x

 

Blaine closes his eyes, his chest thumping wildly as relief and delight and joy washes over him. This could well be strangely, one of the best birthdays Blaine remembers having to date, and he can’t wait to get back to New York tomorrow to carry on the celebrations.

 

*

 

On Sunday morning Blaine’s parents treat he and Cooper to breakfast at a pancake house not far from the airport. After Blaine’s third helping and second mug of coffee he finally declares himself full and pushes his plate away with a groan and light pat to his stomach. The night before had been refreshing to say the least, when he and Cooper had returned from the beach his mother had made a spread of baby cupcakes, cookies and almighty chocolate birthday cake. They enjoyed a late dinner at a fancy fish restaurant out on the promenade and after returning home and singing happy birthday to Blaine, his parents retired to the spare bedroom whilst he and Cooper stayed up until an ungodly hour of the next morning and made good work of the bottle of Jack he’d received earlier that day. Suffice to say plenty of water and aspirin had been consumed throughout the morning.

 

Hugs and goodbyes were shared not long after the cheque had been paid and the waitress had cleared their table, they had already brought their luggage with them and a cab was on its way to pick Blaine and his parents up and take them to catch their flights. Blaine was surprised to find that he actually was feeling a little a melancholy at the thought of leaving his family. Something had shifted within the dynamic of the four of them, his parents although still somewhat disinterested and boring were now tolerable, he felt like he could be himself with them, and not ashamed. Sure there was still so much to share and talk about, so much of himself that his parents would probably never understand but at least he had Cooper, Cooper who he actually, whole heartedly is going to miss. He knows that the next time he makes this trip, he isn’t going to wait so long, and maybe next time, he will bring somebody extra along with him, he’ll insist on it.

 

Blaine feels warm and tingly, as he thinks of that, somebody. Excitement courses through him at the thought of the reunion that will take place in a matter of hours.  
After check in, Blaine grabs a coffee and finds a vacant chair in the departure lounge to get settled for the wait, his parents are at a different terminal and after waving them off through the busy crowds of the airport rush he made his way to his own gate.

 

He scrolls through news feeds on his phone, watches some pointless videos just to pass the time and when his gate number and call time finally flashes up on the big TV screens and is announced loudly over the speakers, he packs up his stuff and stands, when his phone screen lights up with a message.

 

Kurt P  
13.05  
Have a safe flight. Let me know when you land, Sam will come and collect you. 

 

Blaine Work  
13.05  
Sam? But it’s Sunday, he doesn’t work on Sundays. I’ll get a cab, no problem. X 

 

Kurt P  
13.05  
Just do it, no buts!! x 

 

*

 

The flight is long and tiring but Blaine is able to doze on and off, he had a window seat and was pleasantly surprised to find he was sitting next to an elderly couple who insisted on humming show tunes to each other for the best part of the journey. He switches his phone back on when he’s passed through the arrivals line and security and does as he’s told and sends a message to Kurt letting him know that he’s landed safely and currently on his way to baggage claim, waiting patiently with the rest of the not so patient passengers of flight 293. 

 

Finally he spies his bag making its way around the carrousel and he swipes it up swiftly and makes his way through to the exit. The late afternoon spring breeze picks up when Blaine gets through the doors and out into the muggy New York air. He winces at the long line waiting for cabs and grins gratefully at the fact that he doesn’t have to join it. He looks to the right where there is a holding area for pick ups and drop off’s and spies a familiar black Lexus with a personal registration plate, flashing its headlights at him.

 

He makes his way over and pulls open the back door, throwing his bag onto the seat and gliding in after it. “Hey Sam, thanks buddy, you didn’t have to do this though-” He looks up as the tinted divider window rolls down between the front and the back seats, and he’s met with a pair or familiar breath taking eyes, glinting at him and a toothy grin to match.

 

Blaine’s heart beats double time in his chest, his lips part with his words forgotten on his tongue. Kurt is beaming back at him through the rear view mirror, sitting in the driver’s seat with his black leather gloved fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly and Sam’s hat perched atop his head.

 

“Hi there, Birthday boy.”

 

“Hey.” His mouth feels dry.

 

“I kinda missed you, couldn’t wait for you to wait in that cab line.” He shrugs and winks through the small mirror, Blaine’s whole body thrums, his face lighting up.  
He nods weakly, for some reason unable to find his voice or any coherent words. He just wants to climb through the small gap and mould himself against Kurt.  
“Ready to head home?” 

 

Home. The word seeps through him and hinges deep within. Yes Blaine is ready, he’s ready for anything with Kurt, always has, always will.

 

“Drive fast.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-I’m blown away by the response to this story, especially the last chapter. Thank you.

They practically plough through Blaine’s bedroom door with so much unexpected force that only god can know how the thing isn’t left hanging from its metal hinges. How they even made it from the garage and up into the elevator in an appropriate manner, and getting up the stairs in one piece to the bedroom hallway are wonders to behold also. 

 

The short car journey from the airport back to the condo, had been a bit of blur, with Kurt driving a little over the limit, his eyes trained on the road ahead, determined and Blaine cannot be entirely certain that he didn’t run a red light. During some small talk of the general basics, Blaine had relayed rather excitedly his surprising highlights from the trip away and Kurt had fought back a fond tender smile, watching the way Blaine’s face softened and lit. Kurt had told Blaine that Santana had already been and gone for the day, meaning the condo is completely at their disposal, Blaine’s body had been vibrating against the plush leather interior ever since. They don’t have to say much between them, not with words, the smouldering longing gazes with each glance through the small mirror and their tense body postures have been able to say it all perfectly clear. 

 

Jes has the right mind to jump down from Blaine’s bed and scatter from the room with a quiet hiss before being squished by two writhing bodies, as Kurt backs Blaine further into the room and over until the backs of his thighs are hitting the edge of the mattress. Their mouths never part, tongues licking pathways for entry, teeth nibbling and lips sucking fiercely, as nimble fingers work at clasps and zippers.

 

There is an unspoken air between them, an atmosphere rich and thick, igniting them both through and through, it’s heady and feisty, pure need and want, which completely interprets as ‘I missed you so much.’ 

 

“You taste like Whiskey.” Kurt mumbles huskily as he licks into Blaine’s mouth, gently pushing at his shoulders until Blaine complies and sits on the edge of the bed. Kurt perches suggestively over his lap as Blaine smiles into the slow sucking kiss.

 

“Mmm, I think you may be the best hangover cure I’ve ever had.” Kurt arches an eyebrow lightly, pulling back to look at Blaine’s face, with his flushed cheeks and darkening dilated pupils. 

 

“Birthday drinks?” Blaine grins and nods, his eyes landing on Kurt’s lips.

 

“Jack Daniels, Cooper’s birthday gift.” He leans in to take Kurt’s lips again but is left chasing after his mouth as Kurt pulls back again, enough to speak lowly, their lips just brushing.

 

“You didn’t go out? To a bar?” Blaine furrows his brow in a questioning gesture, tilts his head a little to the side, so that he can get a good look at Kurt staring back at him. Kurt’s eyes are that familiar stormy sea on a cloudy day shade, but they’re a tint darker than Blaine thinks he has ever seen them, dark and deep and heavy. Kurt’s gaze is narrowed on Blaine, his wet swollen lips pursed, in silent thought. His expression is not angry, or even scrutinizing, it’s more one of general curiosity, questioning, matching the subtle tones of his voice and very possibly with an extremely feather light touch of possession. 

 

Blaine shakes his head slowly, his arms tightening around Kurt’s shoulders, fingers locking at the juncture at the top of his spine. His eyes never leave Kurt’s, his voice is deep and rough, like it’s being pulled up from his vocal chords. “Cooper got me a bottle, we done our best with it with what mixers Coop had in his cupboards, after dinner when our parents when to bed.”

 

And just like that something seems to snap within Kurt, an invisible but fairly obvious tension rises from his shoulders and his eyes lighten and swirl with bright greens and glassy blues. He ducks his head and nips at the scruff lightly lining Blaine’s jaw line. Bizarrely, Blaine feels like an adolescent who has just been let off the hook with something, a kid who has lucked out on a reprimand. A feeling swirls within his gut as Kurt trails a line of bruising kisses into his skin from his throat to the bare uncovered skin of his collarbone, a strange feeling, one that he can’t place or understand, but one that he likes nonetheless. 

 

Blaine hisses lightly when he feels the sudden bluntness of Kurt’s teeth dig into his skin, Kurt’s sculpted nose pushing against the fabric collar lining of his shirt and then his tongue sliding over and soothing over the stinging marks of skin. Blaine feels that strange sensation wash over him again, from the pit of his stomach rising up to settle and spread through his chest. His ears are almost ringing, pulsing with the sounds of his pumping heart thudding hard and fast. It’s a strange feeling, like he’s being owned, like he’s being marked, as some kind of warning somehow, a warning that some how reads ‘you’re off the hook this time’, and it feels fucking delicious. 

 

Kurt peels the hem of Blaine’s shirt from the waistline of his jeans and up and over his head, dropping it to the floor swiftly and easily before helping Blaine remove his own shirt. Usually Blaine would have chosen to freshen up a little after travelling, but he was hardly given the option, and right now with the feel of Kurt so prominent and eager on top of him he can’t bring himself to care, and he knows that Kurt couldn’t care less about it either or he would have dragged them both into shower by now.

 

Within what feels like no time at all, Kurt has them both gloriously naked and rutting against each other on top of the covers, too far gone to bother peeling them back first. Kurt is sprawled over Blaine’s chest, his knee bent between both of Blaine’s legs, arms pinned to either side of Blaine’s head, panting into his mouth, making the most gorgeous sounds. Their cocks are both equally hard, pulsing and aching, bumping against each other’s, causing delicious whimpers and shivers to run through them and out into the musky atmosphere between them. 

 

Kurt’s lips leave Blaine’s mouth, pressing heated kisses around his face before starting a wet trail down from his chin and past his sternum. Kurt is just reaching his belly button, his tongue flicking out to lick over the slightly neatly trimmed pattern of dark hair there, when Blaine bucks up with his hips, and bends his upper torso upwards and to the side to reach out into his bedside table. 

 

Kurt grins, groaning lightly into Blaine’s skin, nipping at the soft lower fleshy part of his stomach when Blaine retrieves the small bottle of lube and drops it down on to the mattress beside them. Kurt reaches out, uncapping the bottle and pouring some cool liquid droplets into his palm, he rubs his fingers together before taking Blaine tightly into his fist, and stroking him hard and fast, in short and precise movements. Blaine moans deep in his chest, spitting juicy low curse words out between ragged breaths, but before Kurt can advance any further, he lowers his hand and tugs at Kurt’s wrist, uncurling his fingers from around his dick and pulling them down. 

 

Kurt trails his fingers down between Blaine’s firm rounded cheeks, grinning slyly, unaffected by Blaine’s obvious need for a change of course. He takes the remnants of lubricant with him as he goes with the glide of his finger tips against Blaine’s skin, circling the pad of his thumb around Blaine’s puckering hole. He replaces his thumb with the tip of his finger which quickly becomes two, soft pressing circles until finally he pushes in, and keeps pushing until he’s knuckle deep. Blaine squirms around him, panting and whining, taking it like a champ, like it’s his job. He flexes his hips and grinds in time with each movement that Kurt’s hand and fingers make inside of him, it’s everything and it’s perfect, until the stretching is starting to feel too raw and open, like its too much, until it suddenly starts to feel just not enough. 

 

“K-Kurt, Kurt please, more, god more Kurt.” Blaine’s words are barely there, rasped and gravelly, as he sucks in a deep breath which each push of Kurt’s fingers against his swollen sensitive prostate. Kurt moves his free hand to Blaine’s cock, wraps his fingers around him tightly and squeezes. Blaine grunts, squeezing his eyes shuts, it’s too good, it all feels too fucking good, but it’s not what he wants, not what he needs, not now. He places his hand over Kurt’s and moves it away from him and over to Kurt’s own cock, protruding out harsh and sharp from his body, leaking and pulsing at the tip. Their eyes lock on to each others as Blaine’s squeezes his fingers around Kurt’s on his cock, and tugs him down and closer towards his own writhing body.

 

He’s flushed all over, glinting with sweat, and the late afternoon sun peaking in through the half closed blinds, spreads warmth and shadows over their already heated bodies, it’s almost too intense. Kurt’s eyes flash like lightening, but Blaine holds his steady eye contact with him, parting his bended knees wider, as Kurt’s fingers begin to slow and still inside of him and Blaine tugs their hands wrapped around Kurt’s cock down towards his gaping hole. 

 

“B-Blaine.” The word sounds choked, pain mixed with pleasure on his tongue, gritting past his teeth and his lips. Blaine leans up on his elbows, as Kurt removes his fingers slowly from inside him, but Blaine keeps them connected with their hands around Kurt’s cock, he can feel Kurt pulse beneath his fingers, he can feel how much he wants this, how much he wants him. 

 

“Please Kurt, please, I need this, I need you, please, want you, want you inside, waited so long for this.” He’s rambling but he could give two fucks. He needs more, he feels like he could implode from wanting it that badly. It’s time now, he’s ready, he doesn’t care about the consequences. 

 

Kurt licks his lips and swallows hard and roughly, his bright eyes blinking, trying to shift but their interlocked gaze is too heavy, his hips give an involuntarily thrust forward and he jerks back, finally pulling free of Blaine’s grasp and settling on his thick strong thighs. “Blaine, please, I can’t, you know that I-”

 

Blaine sits up and rests on his knees, almost between Kurt’s parted thighs, his chest heaving sweaty and slick, his curls wild around his head and eyes bright hazel around dilated pupils.   
“I know, it’s ok, it’s all still ok, nothing that I promised you has changed,” He’s lying, he always has been, but Kurt doesn’t need to know that, not right now. If he’s being completely honest Blaine actually believes that in some hazy part of his brain Kurt is in fact all too aware of how much truth is laced around the words that he offered to Kurt before their first time together intimately before Christmas.  
“I just need you, please-” Blaine reaches for him but Kurt catches his wrists, staring into his eyes, a set of shimmering blue against wild burnt out honey. 

 

Kurt leans forward and settles his forehead against Blaine’s, closing his eyes and allowing his heart beat to try and return to a slightly steadier rate. The air between them is almost stifling, the scent thick and rich of clean sweat, traces of soap and aftershave, pure man and lust and desire. His words are deep, his tone slightly pleading, like he cant trust himself, like he’s going to snap at any moment, his willpower is going to crumble. “Blaine, please don’t do this, don’t-”

 

Blaine cups his palms over Kurt’s hands and settles them at the sides of his neck, his thumbs rubbing slow reassuring circles into the backs of Kurt’s rigid, almost shaking hands.   
“Why Kurt? Why? I know that you want me, I know that you want to do this, we’re so good together, let me make you feel good, what are you so afraid of?”

 

There’s a harsh intake of breath, followed by a cool stream of air. He can feel the temperature drop around them, his skin prickles with sudden unease. “Because, I don’t deserve you, I-I’m not worthy enough for you to give that part of yourself over to me.” Blaine almost doesn’t the catch the words, they’re spoken so softly, so quietly, so brokenly, as if treading on eggshells. 

 

“K-Kurt,” Blaine pauses, he doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how he can talk Kurt out of this hold on himself. Kurt’s biggest demon is in fact himself. Kurt is talking crazy, and he isn’t being entirely fair, this is Blaine’s choice, this is Blaine’s mistake to make, if it’s going to turn out to be one, but Blaine just can’t let himself think that it will turn out to be a mistake, he can’t and he won’t. Maybe he should fight fire with fire.  
“Kurt you-you promised, you said me and you before I left for the weekend, this is it, this is what I want, I want you Kurt, I don’t give a shit about what or who you think you are, I don’t agree with you, I’m not some priceless virgin Kurt, I’m not a kid either, I don’t care, I need you, I’ve needed you for so damn long-”

 

Blaine is cut off by a firm press of Kurt’s lips to his, it’s fast and slick and messy and all teeth and tongue, a hint possessive, before Kurt’s pulling back with a wet smacking sound.   
“Can’t you see, you dumbass, it’s because I fucking care about you, you know this, I know that you do, I can’t just fuck around with you, like I have with other guys, not you Blaine, and shit, your-you’re my fucking assistant for crying out loud, god I shouldn’t have-” He cuts himself off with a choked off sob, voice slightly cracking with pressure, he runs a hand through his hair, sticking it up in all directions. 

 

“Shouldn’t have what Kurt?” Blaine’s skin prickles, ice filling his chest, but Kurt only shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut.

 

Blaine sits back slightly and watches him in the fading afternoon light, just watches him for a few silent seconds, his chest heaving and mind reeling. Shit, he so was not expecting any of this, he wasn’t prepared for any of this, and then a twang of guilt fills his chest, maybe he should have been. He aches to reach out and pull Kurt against him, the need feels almost too painful, throbbing through his veins, but he doesn’t want Kurt to retreat or withdraw and run and hide, because holy shit, Kurt is actually opening up, Kurt is admitting something, about him, and nothing about it sounds at all like ‘just casual’.

 

The conversation that Blaine had shared with Santana not long ago here on this very bed, comes flooding back to him in fractured parts. ‘He cares, he’s protective, not fooling around’. Blaine stares up into Kurt’s eyes, which have now reopened and turned so very blue, wide and clear, shot through with dots of green and grey. Blaine blows out an unsteady breath, keeps his palms plastered to his knees. 

 

“K-Kurt?” Kurt shakes his head again slowly side to side but at least he is looking at him now, shoulders sagging, his brow creasing, he looks so defeated, so small even in his strong wide frame, the sight stops Blaine in his tracks, any words he thought he had, dying and falling silently from his lips with a hush of shaky breath. 

 

Kurt leans in and down and slowly as if uncertain at first presses his lips, trembling a little to the underside of Blaine’s jaw, firm but soft and fleeting before he lifts himself up and off of the bed, striding out of the room, picking up his clothes quickly as he exits, before Blaine even has the chance to think of or utter another coherent word. 

 

*

 

The night is sleepless, Blaine twists and turns, switches his pillows over, tosses his duvet over onto the floor and retrieving it again moments later when his skin pimples from the cool midnight air, he does this multiple times. The TV is switched on, playing to nobody on mute in the dark silent room, Blaine flicks through multiple pointless apps on his phone, considers cleaning out his closet, stares in jealousy at Jester sleeping soundly beside him. 

 

He feels sick, his temples pounding, his insides flooding with worry and panic and regret. His emotions spike and waver multiple times throughout the early morning hours. He doesn’t even know how to start and correct this, whatever the hell it is that he needs to do, or if he even should do anything. He thinks about waking up to another letter, one like he had all those months ago, only this time it doesn’t all work out quite the same way. He clenches his eyes closes, furiously shaking the thoughts from his head, that wont happen, Kurt wont do that, Kurt wont make him go away, not because of this, whatever the hell this is. It’s all much too confusing. 

 

The feeling and memory of Kurt’s lips pressed so tenderly against his jaw is like a bruise to his skin, seeping and digging in under and under, a feeling so haunting, one that he hopes he will never lose, one that he hopes he will get to refresh and that it wasn’t the lingering trace of a farewell. 

 

Without being asked, his fingers tap over the small screen of his phone, clutched tightly in his hand against his chest and bring up his contact list, his thumb hovering over Kurt’s name, his eyes staring at the four little letters so hard that his vision becomes blurry. With a deep sigh and a frustrated groan he slams the phone down on his side table and buries himself under his duvet, clenching his eyes closed. Nothing he could try and say or do would do any good, not at this time in the morning, he needs to ride this one out, he knows this. Blaine needs to give this, needs to give Kurt, time, he needs to trust that this will all work out eventually, two words that he has ingrained all too knowingly by now within head and his heart.

 

*

 

Blaine walks into his office a little later that morning than his usual time but still before official working hours, he won’t ever be known as tardy, not even after a god awful night. He finally gave up the fight, his eyes starting to heavily drift closed barely an hour before his alarm was set to wake him up, and pulling himself out of bed just after dawn and into the shower was like military mission. He spent too long under the too hot downpour of water, letting the heat and the steam wake him up and loosen his tense and tight muscles. He had tumbled out of the shower, dried himself, shaved and dressed as smartly as he could find the strength to do so and finished off with swiping some gel through his rubbed dry hair, slicking it back carelessly and differently to how it had been used to getting treated recently.

 

The office is warm and light, with the blinds strangely already open and the early morning sun spreading its heat through the windows and into the room. Most importantly it’s empty and silent. Blaine goes about setting up for the day after the weekend, logging on to the system, checking there has been no changes to the schedule for the day. When he’s checked some emails and is satisfied that nothing needs replying too urgently, he steps out into the main entrance once again, heading for the kitchen to start brewing some coffee. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening, heart pounding, the air is already thick and rich, filling his nose with the scent of coffee beans filtering through the machine in the kitchen, and god knows that they cant just do that by themselves.

 

The first thing Blaine sees when he enters the kitchen with tentative steps, is Kurt’s face. He looks beautiful and heart breaking. He’s leaning up against the back kitchen counter beside the coffee maker, he’s facing him, but he’s staring well off into space, his eyes wide and bright and shining, his shoulders poised and tensed. 

 

Blaine takes a few careful strides until he’s standing in front of him, just inches apart, Kurt’s eyes slowly shift and come back into focus, landing on Blaine’s face, taking him in. “Hi.” Blaine feels a pang in his chest with just that one word spoken, so soft and gentle, almost breathless. There’s a wistful smile just hiding at the corner of those pink pouted lips, Blaine can just see it, he aches to trace the shape with his finger and brush his thumb over the light shadow of Kurt’s stubble, which he obviously decided not too shave. 

 

“Good morning.” Kurt side steps slightly and there’s already two mugs of coffee, full to the brim, piping hot, waiting behind him on the counter top. Blaine leans to the side, looking at the cups and then nods his thanks. His hand flinches at his side, eager to reach out and grab, but not for the coffee. “Kurt I-”

 

Kurt stiffens immediately, straightening up, his blue pinstriped fitted shirt tightening up around his body with the way his muscles flex, even where it is tucked into his navy suit pants. “No, not during work hours-”

 

Blaine’s hands ball into frustrated fists at his sides, clenching at his trousers, “Kurt I seriously think that we need to-” Kurt’s sets his chin, his gaze sharp and piercing, fixing on Blaine steadily.

 

“This is not professional, you know this.” Each word is slightly more enunciated than usual, and Blaine has to bite back an annoyed groan. He rolls his eyes, landing on the face of his watch wrapped around his wrist.

 

“Actually Mr Hummel, it’s only seven-fifty-four, I am not contracted for another six minutes.” He wants to swallow back the words as they rush out of his mouth with more bite than intended, it’s too late, but as he dares a glance up at Kurt’s face, he’s surprised to see a glimmer in his eyes, and a definite shadow of a smirk on his lips. 

 

Kurt takes a careful step forward, the leather toes of their shoes just brushing together faintly with a light squeak, an eyebrow quirked, eyes darkening and sparkling dangerously. “Oh, is that so?” 

 

Blaine clears his throat, he must be brave and he must be bold, he’s technically not doing anything wrong or out of order, not right now, and Kurt doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered about it.   
“Um yes it is, and I cant go on throughout the whole day, like this, not knowing, I wouldn’t be able to perform my job properly, which would then lead to a lack of professionalism on my behalf, which is something that you obviously do not want.” He gulps for breath when he finishes, eyes darting to something interesting on the kitchen tile beside his shoe, cheeks flushed, a light sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead. 

 

Kurt takes the last step, closing the space between them, he taps his finger against Blaine’s chin, tipping it upward slightly, his smile is positively devilish, growing wide and toothy and Blaine cant believe the comparison from just a few moments ago.  
“You’re right, that is not what I want.” His voice is deep, husky, Blaine can do nothing but blink back at him, so Kurt continues, “What is that you want to know?”

 

Blaine suddenly feels like he can breathe normally again, deeper, his skin tingling and loosening up, “I um, I want to know that we’re ok?” Kurt’s eyes widen, and his features suddenly soften.

 

“I want to know that too.” His words sound almost like a confession, whispered into the quiet kitchen, echoing off the stainless steel cupboard and appliances and marble tiles. “I’m sorry for the things that I said to you, if I um, if I upset you or anything. I didn’t mean to lose it like that, not with you.”   
Blaine reaches out and takes hold of Kurt’s hand without thinking about it first, he entwines their fingers and squeezes tightly, reassuringly, lightly he sways their joint wrists between their bodies. 

 

It’s an answer, a wordless declaration, that sends sparks jolting through their touching skin, Kurt nods lightly and Blaine nods back, he must know that nothing he can do or say will ever deter Blaine, nothing. There’s so much more that Blaine wants to say, that he wants to know, but not now, he’s only just restraining himself from tap dancing up on the counter tops. 

 

“More importantly, are you ok?” Kurt smiles shyly and nods, Blaine’s squeezes his hand and it feels like a ‘good, me too’, it’s a gesture that is pure and sure and certain.   
“I um, I guess that I also need to know, that I um, I still have a job?” Blaine winks and Kurt barks out a breathy laugh, it’s a beautiful sound, with his head tipping back lightly, all tension easing from between them and gently slipping away.

 

Kurt shakes his head, still smiling as his laughter dies down and starts to step back, “You are delightfully surprising, you know that?” Blaine grins smugly and shrugs his shoulders, Kurt playfully leans in and punches him lightly in the chest as he moves away, though Blaine catches the movement and bravely grabs Kurt’s hand, tugging him forward and brushing his lips against his knuckles. Kurt gasps softly, but does nothing to stop it, Blaine’s feels his arm go lax in his grip like Kurt is giving up to him, giving himself over, but as greedy as Blaine is, especially with Kurt, he’s not stupid enough to push it. He places one last gentle chaste kiss to Kurt’s hand before letting his fingers fall from his grasp with one last squeeze and stepping away. 

 

Blaine glances at his watch and then back up at Kurt, whilst reaching past him for his coffee, “Now if you’ll please excuse me, my boss will be waiting.” He feigns his best serious look and steps past Kurt as he takes a sip from his mug, he swallows and makes a face, stops and looks back over his shoulder at Kurt who is watching after him silently and rather incredulously.  
“Remind me to teach you how to make coffee, my boss would not stand for this.” He winks and strides from the room with more spring in his step than he ever thought possible.

 

*

 

The rest of the working day and the week for that matter goes without fault. They are able to remain professional and appropriate when out of the condo, Sam eyes them carefully whenever he’s in their presence, and when Santana drops by one night through the week to drop off some dry cleaning, Blaine thinks that she’s going to hyperventilate. She side eyes the two and drops lewd innuendos whenever she gets the chance until Kurt finally ushers her into the elevator at the end of the night, before collapsing into Blaine’s waiting arms and his strong chest vibrating with silent laughter. 

 

Kurt follows Blaine up to his bedroom some nights, and Blaine thrills in the feeling of falling asleep whilst still panting, heavily sated against Kurt’s bare ribcage, though the feeling is often short lived when hours later he’ll wake through the night to a dip in the mattress beside him and blink wearily into the dark hours of the early morning as he watches Kurt’s shadow silently leave the room.

 

They haven’t talked about what happened after getting home from the airport, they haven’t discussed what Kurt or he himself wants or needs from each other since that night which started so wonderfully and ended so drastically. Blaine knows that they need to, he needs to bite the bullet and bring it up without pushing Kurt or making him feel too forced or cornered or out of his depth. Things have returned to normal between them whilst back in ‘the bedroom’ also, Blaine still wants to take things further, he’ll never not want to, and he knows that Kurt wouldn’t have forgotten about it, but has instead chosen to be blissfully ignorant and teases and pushes and pulls Blaine to orgasm in the way he knows how, the way he wants to. 

 

The past few days have been so nice, so calm and relaxed, the pair have been able to get on with their jobs as normal as well as being able to appreciate each other and stretch the limits of ‘completely professional’ during private working hours. Blaine cant bear the thought of having another eruption like they did the other night and disrupting the peace, but he wont give up, and he means that no more for himself than he does for Kurt.

 

On Saturday night they end their work after a long day of drafting up business proposals and future meeting arrangements, they arrange to meet back downstairs after changing out of their shirts and ties, for a few quiet drinks and a spot of dinner. The living room is empty when Blaine pads through on barefoot, dressed in loose slacks and a polo t-shirt, music is playing softly from the sound system and there’s a bottle of wine chilling in a cooler on the bar counter. Something is boiling in a pot over the stove in the kitchen and the oven light is on, indicating that something is heating through inside. Blaine walks over, his nose filled with the delicious smells of Kurt’s cooking, he uncorks the bottle and pours a generous amount into two glasses, while he waits for Kurt to join him. 

 

He’s quietly sneaking a few small sips from his glass when his eyes land on a square cream envelope lying against the breakfast counter in the kitchen. Blaine glances to the open doorway to find it empty, he listens for sounds of approaching footsteps and hears nothing but the soothing lilt of the music filtering through the speakers. He sets down his glass and wanders over to the kitchen, his hands dug into his pants pockets a little sheepishly. 

 

The envelope is medium sized and looks quite thick, with Blaine’s name written neatly along the centre and the outline of a birthday balloon drawn around it in black ink. Blaine bites his lip, barely holding a small smile as he traces the edges with his finger.  
“You gonna open it or just look at it?” Blaine whips his head around to find Kurt now standing in the archway of the living area, watching him with an amused look on his face. 

 

Kurt is looking entirely too gorgeous with a pair of dark jeans and a tight t-shirt tucked into the low hanging denim waistline, his hair flopping softly over to one side.   
Blaine picks up the card and starts to tear open the seal as Kurt makes his way towards him, picking up his glass of wine on the way and coming to perch on a stool next to Blaine. The birthday card is plain and simple, with bright colours and intricate patterns on the front and inside the message simple reads, 

 

‘Happy Birthday, I’m sorry I missed it. Kurt x’

 

There’s a silver guitar plectrum with Kurt’s initials and his company logo engraved on one side and Blaine’s initials on the other, balanced in the crease of the card, Blaine picks it up with careful, gentle fingers and twists and turns it, getting a good look. It’s pretty awesome and so totally cool, he’s touched, and the way he beams up at Kurt whist holding it says as much. Kurt smiles and nods back down to the card where Blaine finds a small card taped to the inner side of the front cover.

 

Blaine peels it away and holds the plastic between his fingers, bringing it up to his eye line to see exactly what it is. Kurt clears his throat, “It’s a um, well it’s an airline travel card, I uh, I already made you the plec and I had just planned to make you dinner or something, but then I seen how excited and happy you were after your weekend, and maybe it was just a one time thing, but I still wanted to tell you that you can go and visit with your parents and your brother at anytime, you should while you still have the chance, life is short Blaine, don’t forget that.”

 

Blaine feels his throat restrict as he listens and watches with almost full eyes, rubbing the plastic between his finger tips, “Kurt I-” Kurt waves his hand dismissively. 

 

“It’s nothing really Blaine, it’s hardly exciting, but its yours to use whenever you want, I don’t want you to have to worry about travelling-” He’s cut off with a choked off rush of air as Blaine falls between his arms, landing against his chest with a light thud and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, breathing warmth into his neck.

 

“Thank you Kurt, that’s incredibly thoughtful of you.” Kurt feels the words whispered against his skin, hears them hushed into his ear, and allows himself to be embraced by Blaine. It’s true that it’s not the most exciting of gifts and probably hasn’t put a dent in Kurt’s bank balance by a long shot, plus there’s also the fact that with the wage Blaine is currently earning, travelling isn’t a money issue for him, not anymore. But money is not everything, Blaine is not materialistic and Kurt knows this about him, he’s learning that Blaine doesn’t care for the finer or greater things in life, as long as it’s special. The thought that comes with the gift, the shy glint in Kurt’s eyes, the flush of his cheeks and the bashful smile growing on his lips, tugs at Blaine’s heart strings more than any gift probably ever will again. 

 

“You should maybe listen to yourself once in a while.” Blaine murmurs as he pulls back, eyes slightly misted over as they bore into Kurt’s.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Life’s too short, you should listen to yourself, you’re absolutely right.” Blaine watches the way Kurt’s breath catches in his tender throat as he gasps softly, his pink lips parting, tongue darting out the flick a wet line over the crease. Blaine readies himself for the response, maybe a witty remark, some form of backlash, but Kurt only blinks back at him silently with sparkling stormy eyes, his features softening.

 

“I know.” He says softly after a few painfully long seconds, “I should, I’m getting there, I-I’m learning I guess.” Blaine smiles, unsure how to respond, he feels his chest tighten at the softness of Kurt’s words but at also at how heavy and weighted they are, laced with unspoken truths. Tentatively he reaches up to stroke back a stray strand of Kurt’s silky soft hair which has fallen out of place, Kurt’s eye’s flutter closed with the movement and Blaine feels a little lost in the moment. 

 

“Hey,” Kurt’s eyes snap back open to find Blaine grinning at him, “by the way, you didn’t miss my birthday, I left you here.” Kurt nods, his eyes smiling. “You’re right I did love it there, surprisingly, but I still kind of wished I was still here with you at the same time.” Kurt brings his finger up to bop playfully at Blaine’s nose.

 

“I guess there’s next time right?” Both men’s eyes flash wide open, it’s hard to tell which one looks more shocked, shocked at the fact that Kurt had said it or shocked at the utter sincerity that was laced within the words which were more a state of facts then a question. 

 

“Yeah, yes there is.” Blaine is almost breathless, the word rolling off of his tongue from nowhere, and then when he thought he had trouble breathing before, the weight of Kurt’s lips pressed firmly against his is enough to leave him almost winded and swaying on his feet if it wasn’t for Kurt holding him upright. 

 

They kiss and kiss, soft and slow, breathing into each others mouths like a life line, until finally Kurt draws back and cups Blaine’s jaw. “I want to make a promise to you, the way that you did to me, the way that you have honoured it and treat me so wonderfully and for god knows why-”

 

“Kurt-” Blaine tightens his hands around Kurt’s waist, he feels like Kurt’s words are just about going to saw through him like a blade, he doesn’t want to hear Kurt belittle himself anymore, he can’t take it, he doesn’t need to understand why Kurt feels the way that he feels, he just wants to start helping Kurt feel good about himself, that’s all that matters to him now.

 

“No, let me finish, please.” Kurt gently brushes his thumbs over Blaine’s lips, causing him to quiet and still. “I am going to promise you that, although I cant promise what it exactly is that I can give you, I promise to try, I promise to let you help me to try, you are something I never accounted for, you are somebody I never thought I would have in my life, when I first met you I knew that you were different to anybody I’d met before, but I didn’t know how, I didn’t know that you would have this effect on me but you do, and I like the way I am when I’m with you, the way you make me feel, there’s just something about you that drives me almost crazy, I cant even explain it.” 

 

Blaine knows that feeling, he knows all to well. Suddenly he feels too light on his feet, Kurt’s words are boring down on him, flooding his head and his heart all at once, he can’t believe what he is actually hearing.  
“I frightened myself after hiring you, I didn’t know just what I’d let myself in for, I know what you want from me Blaine, and please believe me when I say that I want that too, god do I want that, I know what you may have been told or lead to believe about me, and just, just please wait, please wait for me.”

 

Blaine can’t take it anymore, his lips are on Kurt’s in an instant, crashing down on him, pulling and sucking through wet slaps and gritted teeth, moans erupting from his tight throat and groans grumbling up from deep down. “Anything,” It’s almost like a growl against Kurt’s chin, “anything for you Kurt, you must know that.” 

 

The sound that Kurt makes is much too delicious and suddenly Blaine is up on his back, sprawled out against the cool hard surface of the counter top, with Kurt climbing up, hovering above him and straddling his sides. The wine glasses are hastily slid out of the way with just minimal spillage which Kurt’s cleans up with a swipe of his finger, drawing the droplets into his mouth and then Blaine’s. 

 

Blaine nips the pad of his finger, “Can I ask one thing?” His pupils are blown, toffee coloured and full as he stares up at Kurt with a look of reverence. Kurt nods down at him, sucking his lips between his teeth suggestively.   
“Where does this put us? Like what’s our current status?” 

 

Kurt furrows a brow, not really understanding, Blaine watches as a wave of momentary panic washes over him, his bright eyes large and rounded. Blaine leans up on to his elbows, trapping Kurt’s body between his knees and mumbles deep and low.  
“I mean is this still a ‘until further notice’ thing?” He wiggles his eyes brows as best he can, as he makes his best naughty expression.

 

“Jackass,” Kurt laughs as he pushes him back down playfully and attaches his lips to Blaine’s throat. “Just let me worry about that, ok?” He murmurs into Blaine’s skin as his tongue dips into the hollow curve at the join of his neck and chest, and really Blaine cannot argue with that, he also doesn’t think he’s going to have to worry about the word ‘casual’ for a while.


	15. Chapter 15

Blaine is antsy, his skin feels tight and his stomach is in knots, he’s rived his hand through his hair so many times that he’s not sure how he hasn’t tugged out some of his curls yet. At this rate he’s going to need to wash it using some seriously kick-ass thickening and strengthening treatments.

 

He didn’t think he would feel like this, he’s known about the event for a while now, he knew it was a big deal, but for some reason it hadn’t really all sunk in, the weight of it all hadn’t really settled, until he woke this morning with his stomach feeling like lead and finger tips numb and tingling like they could just drop off. Why had he not better prepared himself for this, mentally if not anything else. Maybe because things were going so well with Kurt recently that he just forgot to worry, forgot to care about everything else. 

 

He doesn’t even know what the hell he’s going to wear tonight. How in the fuck has a designer’s personal assistant found himself on the day of a big fashion orientated movie premier, not knowing what he’s planning on wearing? He feels frozen, like his limbs won’t even ease up to assist him out of bed and into his closet to start freaking out about it even more. 

 

It was his Saturday off and he’d spent the most part of the morning, since waking annoyingly at the ass crack of dawn, hiding under the covers, he’d ignored a text from Sam asking if he wanted to go for a morning run followed by breakfast, and now he was enduring a rather heated stare-off with Jester.

 

“I know that you’re hungry, but if you could just work out how to open the door, and go downstairs to feed yourself then that would be great because I don’t plan on getting up anytime soon.”

 

“You’re a total freak-loser, do you know that?” The voice, an amused familiar one, comes from the other side of the door as Jester continues to stare unblinking and definitely not amused at him, Blaine groans and buries himself further into his pillows and pulls the covers up over his head as the door is creaked open a moment later. An all too knowing clicking of heels click-clacks in to the room, as Jester jumps down from the bed and makes a hasty retreat out of the room before the door is shut again.

 

“Good morning sunshine.”

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

“Oh it’s nice to see you too, well why don’t you get your ass out from under the covers and see for yourself.” Blaine adjusts the duvet and allows room for just one side of his face to be uncovered, as Santana strides across the room and hauls open the drapes. He blinks wearily into the suddenly sun filled room, one-eyed as Santana glares back at him, dressed as pristine as usual with a hanger and an attached black zipper bag dangling from one well manicured hand. 

 

“Wha’sat?” He muffles into the duvet as he nods his chin at whatever Santana is holding.

 

“This is your party dress, you shall go to the ball Cinderella, and you can pay me in cash or vodka or maybe just some Krispy Kreme’s or something.” She smirks as Blaine pulls the covers further down away from him to get a good look.

 

“My what?”

 

“Your suit, your suit that you’re going to wear tonight, and what the hell is the matter with you anyway? You look like something just ate your cat, you should be ecstatic, leaping for joy, bouncing off of the walls that you’re attending a big shot a-list thing with the big shot love of your life-”

 

“Santana,” Blaine almost hisses as he all but lunges out of bed suddenly, “shut up.”

 

“What? It’s the truth, and calm down he’s not even here-”

 

“Who?”

 

“You know who,” Santana looks utterly bored as she strolls over to Blaine’s closet and hangs the black bag up on the edge of the door frame, neatly out of the way. “Kurt, he’s gone out to run some errands or something, I don’t know, says he’ll be back later.” She comes back over to him and sits down on the edge of the bed, moving the unmade uncovers out of the way uncaringly. Blaine feels a momentary flood of panic that Kurt has gone out without him, without saying anything. Blaine feels so dependant on the feeling of doing all that he can for Kurt now, that he hates thinking that Kurt is out doing something that Blaine should be doing, whether it’s his day off or not. He doesn’t get long to dwell on it before Santana starts speaking again, her voice lowered a little with a firm tone. “Seriously what’s with you right now, are you ok?”

 

Blaine sighs hard and tugs at his hair again, before dropping back down to the mattress beside Santana. “Honestly, I have no idea, I feel nervous as shit, like it’s just came out of nowhere, I haven’t spoken to Kurt since last night, we haven’t really talked about the event at all actually, he’s been rather quiet about it and we’ve been busy with work and stuff-”

 

Santana places a hand over one of his and pats lightly, “Hey it’s ok, I get it, it’s a big deal, but don’t sweat it, you’re gonna have a great time, just loosen up let your hair down, get drunk, get Hummel drunk, it’ll all be good, honestly I’m a little jealous and pissed that I didn’t get an invite now that he suddenly wants to be back in the spot light again, but hey ho, I guess you’re second prettier after me.” She grins mischievously and Blaine can’t help but smile back, she’s just that infectious. 

 

“Why do you think it is, that he wants back in the ‘spotlight’ now?”

 

“You.” She says it so simply and matter of fact that when Blaine tilts his head at her with a questionable raised eyebrow she just shrugs her shoulders. “I’m serious, I think that it’s you, he feels comfortable enough to be himself with you, you remind him of who he used to be before he got all high and mighty, I don’t think it’s so much that he wants the attention like he used to, more like he doesn’t mind it now, because he has you to keep him grounded.” 

 

Blaine is a little speechless, it’s not the first time he’s been told something like this, but he still doesn’t know how to take it when he does hear it. He’s not exactly sure how much Kurt and Santana have talked about him, especially recently. Though honestly he is pretty damn sure that Santana knows exactly where they’re at in their ‘relationship’ he still doesn’t know the correct word for it, but for whatever reason she’s choosing to actually be respectable and not just come straight out and point fingers at them. 

 

Since Kurt’s little outcry the weekend that Blaine had returned from La, a few weeks back, nothing much had changed within their personal or professional dynamic, outwardly. But behind closed doors Blaine could hardly move for Kurt hovering around him like a bored child, or get more than a couple of pages typed up before he’s pulled from his desk, and wheeled around to face Kurt’s waiting lips and hands. The affection that Kurt has been showing him recently has done nothing to harbour Blaine’s feelings and keep his emotions at bay. With every glance, every innocent fleeting touch of skin and teasing brush of lips as they speak, Blaine’s heart beats more prominently, skin shivering with anticipation of what is hopefully to come. 

 

“Hey,” Santana’s voice brings him back to the here and now, she shakes his shoulder lightly, “I know what you’re thinking, what you’re worrying about, and all I can say is don’t, you just be the person who you know he wants you to be tonight, be yourself, you know how to work the cameras and the pap’s now, ignore them and what they think of you and just be you.” She stands and brushes down her dress, Blaine catches her wrist and tugs her back around, standing and wrapping her up in a warm hug.

 

“Thank you, just, thank you.” Santana eases herself into his embrace for a few silent seconds. Blaine has learnt that she’s never been one for signs of affection, only if in a leering or crass, typical Santana way, and he appreciates the way she just lets him hold her, as if feeling his need for this simple sign of reassurance. She pulls back and winks at him before making a disgusted face.

 

“Ok you, go and get yourself cleaned up, because there’s no way you’re gonna work the whatever coloured carpet they’re choosing tonight, looking like that.” She looks him up and down as she back steps towards the door. Blaine grins shaking his head as he walks towards the bathroom and waving at Santana as she leaves. “Enjoy tonight wonder gay, you’ll be perfect, as always.”

 

“Thank you Santana, have a good day.” And then she’s gone with a not so gentle shut of the door, leaving Blaine with a bright smile and in a somewhat more relaxed state than before. 

 

*

 

Hours later Blaine is sitting on his freshly made bed, wearing clean sweats with his hair shiny and dry-frizzed all around his head, ready for styling later. The patio door is open, allowing a gentle spring mid-day breeze to drift lightly through the room, washing over his skin and calming him in a way he can’t understand. He’s shaved, trimmed and moisturized, picked out his underwear and socks and shoes for tonight and now he’s sitting cross legged against his pillows with the black zipper bag Santana had brought earlier laid out on the mattress in front of him. 

 

He tugs at the zipper, a little lost in thought. Santana must have been asked to pick the suit up from the tailor, but why hadn’t he been asked to go for any fittings, why hadn’t he been asked for his preferences. The tailor obviously already has Blaine’s sizes and preferred textures and fits, and maybe Kurt had already told him what he wanted the suit to look like, what his vision was. Blaine lets the thought go with a shrug of his shoulders, if he’s honest he feels mostly relieved that he hasn’t had to worry about it, and that the choice has just been made for him. 

 

If he’s extra honest that is a part of why he loves being here with Kurt, strangely even through the slight heart ache and aggro, Kurt makes life a little easier for him. Blaine likes the feeling of being told what to do, likes the demands and the satisfaction of wanting to please. He likes just being, not having to choose or think for himself so much, because now there is Kurt, he has Kurt, to fill up the loose gaps and empty spaces of bottomless choices his life once was.

 

He unzips the bag right down to the bottom, and is just about to peel back the sides of the plastic to reveal the suit inside when there’s a slight knock on his door, pulling his head up, smiling towards the noise. The knock is familiar, a short light pattern, one that is only used by one person, and they know that they don’t have to wait for Blaine to answer before opening and entering.

 

Kurt comes in to the room quietly, literally knocking the wind from Blaine’s lungs and out through his lips, like he usually does. He’s also wearing sweat pants, light grey with a white tank top, exposing too much glorious uncovered skin and muscles, barefoot and hair hand swept upwards, it’s a look that Blaine loves on him far too much than he’s willing to admit. His cheeks are freshly shaven with just a light trickle of whiskers underneath his jaw line, sort of teasing. Blaine can smell him as he comes closer, the distinct scent of shampoo and shower gel, the light trace of his moisturizer and skin cleanser fills Blaine’s nose, fills him inside out. 

 

He climbs onto the bed, opposite Blaine and mirroring his sitting position, smiling lightly when he sees the suit bag in Blaine’s hands. He nods down to it, “You haven’t seen yet?” Blaine shakes his head and starts to pull the suit out from the folds of dark plastic. 

 

“Was just about to.” Kurt sits back and let’s Blaine pull the suit out completely from the bag, holding it up high in the air, as high as his arm can stretch above his head. Blaine has never seen a suit like it before it, it’s nothing like the tailor usually creates for them, and his cuts are always impeccable, but this, this is out of this world.

 

The colour is simply grey, not too dark but not too light, Blaine isn’t sure he knows what shade it is exactly, but it’s beautiful, everything about it all is beautiful, stunning rather. The fabric is soft to the touch, thick and very carefully, intricately stitched. Inside the jacket, the lining is silk and soft in a beautiful navy colour, subtly patterned with a lighter blue floral design. There is a crisp white shirt tucked carefully inside the jacket and a bowtie draped around it, the same pattern and colour of the lining of the jacket. The pants are perfectly pressed, a neat seam running along the centre of each trouser leg and stitched rather uniquely at the hem. Blaine can see by looking, by tracing a careful finger tip along the fabric that it’s going to be the perfect fit for him, he doesn’t need to try it on to know that. The whole ensemble is completely unique, traditional yet slightly understated and totally beautifully crafted, from each stitch to pocket and the carefully folded pocket square on the right hand side breast plate.

 

He looks up at Kurt, with wide bright eyes, and whistles under his breath, “Wow, this is really something huh, it’s gorgeous, the guy’s really outdone himself this time, I can’t wait to see what you’re wearing.” Kurt smiles and nods, his gaze flicking between the suit dangling from Blaine’s hand and Blaine’s face, soft and open and a little in awe.   
Blaine stands from the bed, taking the suit with him and hanging it neatly back over the closet door.

 

“Consider it a gift, an anniversary gift.”

 

“Huh?” Blaine whips back around, eyes wide and face scrunched up in a completely confused manner. Kurt is still sitting on the bed, head tilted to the side, with a smirk on his lips, and sparkling eyes to match, watching him intently.

 

“You don’t remember do you, you seriously have no idea?” He stands from the bed and takes a few small steps forward, Blaine meets him half way slowly, racking his brain to work out what the hell Kurt is going on about.   
Anniversary, consider it a gift. Shit. It hits him, it hits him like a freight train. It’s April, Kurt hired Blaine in April, on this day exactly one year ago.

 

“I’ve been working for you a year today.” He breathes out in surprise, a little louder than a whisper. Kurt reaches forward and draws circles and shapes into Blaine’s t-shirt covered chest, lightly with his finger tip.

 

“You’ve been here a year, yes.” Kurt reiterates, his voice, a touch too husky. “How time flies when you’re having fun huh?” Blaine smiles, skin tingling as Kurt’s fingers stretch out into a wide warm palm and settles over his chest. Blaine settles his hands around Kurt’s waist, he squeezes lightly.

 

“Wow, I can’t believe I never thought about it, you’re right, time gets away from you I guess, when you’re in a place when you don’t have to worry about time getting away from you anymore, weird huh?” He tilts his chin, eyes gazing off into the room, slightly unfocused. Wow a full year, it doesn’t even feel like it, he hopes and prays and wishes for many more, many of the same, he can’t bear thinking of time when Kurt wasn’t around or involved in someway, his life has never had more purpose until he met that man. He’s brought back with Kurt’s fingers tugging at his chin, his lips brushing against his jaw, breath warm against his skin.

 

“You ok?” Blaine shudders, as he feels the words mouthed into the side of his throat, a tongue teasing, sliding wetly. Blaine groans, lost in the completely delicious feeling of Kurt’s mouth and his hands rubbing over his chest.

 

“Yeah, yeah I totally am.” He ducks his head and meets Kurt’s lips with his own, soft and loose and pliant. They brush against each others slowly, mutual slight grins breaking out and threatening to disrupt the lazy pattern. “Hey,” Blaine pulls back, a little suddenly, grins at the way Kurt’s mouth tries to chase after him. “You said a gift, consider the suit a gift?” 

 

Kurt nods, his eyes lighting up, “A gift from me to you, a thank you for everything you’ve done the past year.” Kurt shrugs as he trails off, a slight blush creeping over his cheeks, and Blaine finds it entirely too adorable.

 

“But how is it a gift from you?” Kurt leans back and watches him silently, a grin on his lips and quirk of his eyebrow that says ‘really you can’t work this out?’ until Blaine finally does, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, chest flooding with warmth.   
“You-you made the suit? It’s your design?” His words are barely audible, caught in his dry throat. Kurt nods, a soft subtle bob of his head, he smiles that smile, the shy one, so beautiful and simple that lights up his entire face, the entire room. 

 

Blaine thinks about the times when Kurt had locked himself away somewhere within the condo during quiet hours or just some downtime, when he thought he’d been working or sleeping or just having time to himself. He remembers the handful of occasions when he’d went into the study to have a small guitar jam session, and stumbled into Kurt in the door way, with what looked to be a large craft box in his hand and glasses clipped to the bridge of his nose. Or the time more recently when he was sitting at his keyboard, creating a new melody just out of boredom and the stretch of his fingertips when he glanced over to find Kurt’s sewing machine mysteriously vanished from its usual spot.

 

Blaine can now place the quiet humming sound, and the gentle vibrating noise he could hear so many times coming from down the hall when he’d enter or exit his bedroom early in the morning or late at night, after he and Kurt had done their bit and said their piece, had their way with each other for the day.   
Kurt had been preparing this for Blaine, all of this time, Kurt has created something for him, something so wonderful, so perfect, so personal and it has Kurt’s stamp, his touch and his name all over it. The very thought makes Blaine’s head pound, feeling like he’s spinning in the very spot where he knows he’s standing still.

 

“Kurt, I, I don’t know what to say, thank you, thank you so much.” For some reason, he feels glued to the spot. Kurt is smiling back at him so openly, so ready for Blaine to just take him in his arms and thank him over and over, but all Blaine can do is stand there stiffly, with a throat that feels too tight and eyes that feel too full, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest. “I, I don’t have anything for you.” 

 

Blaine looks so small, his shoulders sagging inwardly, sadly, with a ridiculous hangdog expression on his face. Kurt actually laughs at him, grabbing at his shoulders and wobbling him side to side playfully. “What’s the matter? You didn’t have to get me anything dummy.”

 

Blaine pouts up at him, blinking his liquid golden eyes, ok so maybe some of it is for show, because of the way is Kurt is looking back at him right now, like he just wants to kiss the pathetic sadness away from all over his face. “It’s just the suit is so, it’s just so, it’s perfect Kurt and I-”

 

Blaine’s words are swallowed up by Kurt’s tongue, licking its way into Blaine’s mouth, the rest of his rant dissolving with breathy pants and moans and that familiar need for just more, more, more. Blaine has never felt this way before whilst kissing somebody. Kissing Kurt is an experience which renews its greatness each and every time, he will never grow old of it, he will never get over the fact that he is allowed to. He won’t let himself imagine a time when he can kiss Kurt outside of the condo, outside of the privacy of their walls and doors and work façade. Kurt doesn’t want that, he’s not ready to open himself up like that to the world, and Blaine respects that, he does, he understands and won’t ever push. Blaine never breaks his promises, but he can hope, if Blaine knows anything at all, he knows that there is always hope.

 

Kurt rips his mouth away from Blaine’s, lips parted slick and pink and swollen, breath rushing out of him and cheeks gorgeously flushed. “Believe me, when I say that by wearing it you’ll be doing more than enough.” There is something so sincere in Kurt’s words, his tone so final, so sure, that Blaine can’t chalk up anything else to say or do. There is something inside of him that just knows, that is telling him to just accept this one and let it go. So he does, he lets it go, he lets everything go, and throws himself back into Kurt’s arms, with the feeling that maybe another shower maybe needed later before their big night ahead.

 

They stumble back towards Blaine’s bed, hands grabbing at articles of clothing as they go. The backs of Kurt’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and he falls back, almost pulling Blaine down with him, he grabs Blaine’s wrist and looks at him deep and steady. “You’re ok aren’t you? About tonight, you’re ok?”

 

Blaine nods weakly, he wasn’t entirely sure or certain, but with every passing second spent looking into Kurt’s piercing eyes and feeling him under his hands, every worry and fear and doubt that seemed to have sparked up out nowhere, dissipated into thin air.

 

“I’ve got you, you know that right, I’ll look after you.” 

 

Blaine feels the force of Kurt’s words in the intensity of his gaze, like a direct line to his heart. He wasn’t ok, he didn’t feel ok before, but now it’s like he suddenly has the courage he didn’t know he possessed within him, and he knows that the movie premier is now just a small part of a bigger picture. With Kurt by his side no matter the situation, he knows that he’ll somehow always be ok, tonight, tomorrow, always. 

 

*

 

Blaine had thought he had gotten used to the whole razzmatazz of this other way of life, this world. He’d learnt how to hold and present himself, what to say and what not to, when to smile and when to act and hide what he was really feeling inside, just in case somebody misinterprets something that they see on the other side of a camera lens. It’s all incredibly juvenile and tedious, like a game which you have to learn the secret method to and keep playing at the top of your game, but it’s something that Blaine has adjusted to, to the best of his ability. 

 

But this, tonight, seems to be some whole other different ball game, altogether. The noises are almost deafening from the moment they step out of the blacked out car and ushered by event staff and security to the holding area before making their way out on to the carpet. Screams and chants, a chorus of cries and well known song lyrics and names, mixed with the constant clicking of camera shutters, names being called out from all directions, demands of ‘stand this way, over here and look that way’, it’s almost too much to take in already.

 

Blaine breathes steadily with short even breaths, in through his nose, out through his mouth, he allows himself small glances at Kurt and seems to draw strength and courage from just one look, even though he feels weak at the knees and like he could just keel over every time he does. Kurt is dressed to kill, and Blaine thinks he could actually accomplish that tonight. His suit is a very similar cut and fit and finish to Blaine’s though their colours are reversed slightly. Kurt’s suit is a deep navy, shimmering with each way he turns under the night stars and the blinking of flashing lights, his shirt underneath is clean bright white like Blaine’s and his skinny tie is a beautiful light grey His trousers are slim line and cling to his ass gloriously in a way that Blaine cannot allow himself to look at, not even once. They compliment each other in their suits, matching yet not so much, drawing attention to just the right places. Kurt is a very, very, clever and talented man. 

 

A small lady wearing all black, with a headset and a clipboard ushers them onto the carpet lined with silver metal barricades and big burly men dressed in black coats and shades, where crowds of fans and press and the general public are pushing each other this way and that, holding out pens and posters and cameras. The carpet is a refreshing deep shade of purple, it’s rather lovely and quite thick to stand on, and Blaine has to stifle a nervous giggle as he keeps instep just behind Kurt, he’s always wondered it feels like to walk on one of these when watching at home on the TV or looking at pictures in a magazine. 

 

The instantaneous flashes all big and bright and constant, are everywhere, everywhere Blaine looks, he’s squinting and trying not to look directly into somebody’s camera or videophone somewhere. He keeps his head down as he watches where he’s walking, following Kurt into what looks to be a walking version of a conveyer belt of celebrity personalities, all making their way down a line, talking into different microphones and smiling into different lenses. Blaine makes sure to smile, keep his features soft and expressive, but not too much, and lifts a hand to offer a polite wiggle of fingers whenever he hears his name called out, which appears to be an awful lot tonight, for some reason.

 

Kurt stops beside a barrier where there are a cluster of fans chanting his name, they’re all wearing similar items of clothing and accessories, all vaguely familiar. When Blaine looks harder as discreetly as he can, he notices that they are all items from Kurt’s previous lines of fashion. Blaine smiles and watches, stepping back slightly as Kurt poses, signs his name on random objects, leaning himself backwards over the barrier and taking ‘selfies’ with the fans who are giggling and calling his name over and over. Blaine can’t hide his surprise when they suddenly direct their attention towards him, calling for him with bright smiles and hopeful stares, asking for him to come and pose with Kurt. Blaine is even more stunned when Kurt beckons him forward, nudges him playfully with his shoulder and leans very slightly into Blaine’s side so that multiple photo’s can be taken from all angles.

 

“You look very handsome tonight Blaine-”

 

“You two are so cute-”

 

“Blaine I’ve watched some of your old stuff on you tube, it’s all so good, will you be making anymore?”

 

That last call out catches him off guard slightly, he doesn’t know if he should answer, he doesn’t know how to. How people get such information, how people know the things that they know, is always a fascinating thing for Blaine, the depths that people will go to, he’s only glad that in this instance the outcome has been a positive one. He hadn’t seen or heard of anything that came from the last bad experience he’d shared with press at the fashion event last year, he’s thankful for that but is aware that these things can pop up at anytime, he knows now to always be prepared, just in case.   
He smiles and waves politely, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the crowd as Kurt starts to move away and continue along the line towards the press segment. Kurt slows down a step, allowing Blaine to catch up with him and lowers his voice as he leans in closer towards him.

 

“How you holding up? You’re doing great, you have fans.” Kurt pulls back to look at Blaine fully, as he continues walking with the current, he’s smiling brightly, reassuringly and Blaine can only beam back and nod his assent. It’s all slightly breathtaking and hard to grasp, like he’s just taken some happy pills and currently riding the high as normally and appropriately as he can.

 

Kurt is called over to a young man with almost lilac hair, wearing a boldly patterned shirt and fancy looking glasses, Blaine strongly believes that Kurt has only chosen to actually go over to him because of the way he looks. There is no pattern or reason or rhyme to who talks to who, or who gets what picture, and everybody knows that Kurt Hummel only talks when he wants, to who he wants to, it’s known in the press world that whoever Kurt chooses to stop and chat to should consider themselves privileged.

 

“Kurt! Hey, hi, thank you for talking to us tonight, how are you?” The guy looks elated, he’s polite with a soft voice and an easy smile, holding out a microphone as a guy beside him balances a video camera on his shoulder. Kurt smiles, digs his hands into his pockets and looks over to Blaine before back at the guy.

 

“Hello, I’m good thank you, how are you?”

 

“Oh we’re great, even better now that you’ve stopped by,” They share a small laugh, the guy’s giggle is apparently infectious and Blaine watches how Kurt falls into his easy, laidback demeanour. “So it’s nice to see you, we don’t see much of you these days, are you excited for the movie tonight?”

 

“Oh thank you and yes, I have become some what of a hermit these days,” They laugh together again, like both just know how and when to, “I’ve been rather busy, but yes, I’m very excited for the movie, I’ve heard some great things about it.”

 

“Oh yeah, for sure, it’s going to be totally amazing. So tell me, could you let us in a little on what’s been keeping you so busy?” The guy’s gaze flicks over to Blaine, a little too happily, his eyes flashing and his smile growing wider.

 

“Well,” Kurt’s eyes follows the reporter’s as he pauses, as if looking for words, and then as if something has been said out loud between them Blaine starts to inch closer to him, with a small smile, like he knows through just one simmering gaze that Kurt is asking him to join him. Kurt turns back to the guy, his smile bright and a tad mischievous. “Do you know my assistant Blaine?”

 

“O-ooh,” The guy looks even more elated than before, his smile breaking out into an all toothy grin, eyes widening and his glasses almost popping off of his nose, “Oh no, well we’ve heard of Blaine, of course, but this is the first time we’ve had the privilege of meeting him.” The young guy offers Blaine a dazzling smile, cheeks a little flushed and Blaine waves in return. “You’re looking very gorgeous tonight Blaine, if I may be so bold, you both are of course.”

 

Blaine blushes, and has to stop himself from scuffing his shoe against the carpet, he looks to Kurt for some kind of assistance, not sure if he should speak or not. Kurt looks back at him, his eyes bright and sparkling, and something crosses his face, something fleeting, like a silent reassurance, a silent confirmation that he needn’t worry or over think too much. As if reading his mind, Kurt turns back to the reporter and starts speaking, saving Blaine from having to make an apparently tough decision, and Blaine’s heart beats with silent thanks and reverence. “I’ve um, I’ve actually been working on a new line, sort of, just a little personal project,”

 

“Oh really?” The reporter looks suddenly mystified, he turns to his camera guy who shrugs back at him, looking equally curious, like they somehow let something slip through the net during their research. Blaine is standing beside Kurt feeling exactly the same way but trying not to let it show too much on his face. Kurt carries on, seemingly undeterred.

 

“Yes, well it’s um it’s kind of a work in progress, it’s not finished and it’s not publicised, well now it is,” He laughs again, a short chuckle and the guy copies him before suddenly starting to bounce on his toes with excitement.

 

“Oh my gosh, a new Kurt Hummel line, how amazing,” He turns himself to face the camera, face beaming, “And you heard it here first folks!” He spins back around, swinging the microphone back to Kurt’s face. “So Kurt, when can we get a little snippet of what you’re working on, hopefully you’ll not leave us hanging too long right?” 

 

Kurt smiles, but it’s too bright, too well pasted, his cheeks are starting to flush that pretty colour it does and his eyes are twinkling, he has that look about him, the one Blaine has come to know only too well. The look that means he’s up to something and he’ll let you in on it only if he damn well wants to. He turns to Blaine who is still trying to rack his brains for any conversations or meetings about this new fashion venture Kurt is talking about, has he completely zoned out of something majorly important or is Kurt just bullshitting this poor kid for kicks and giggles. 

 

Kurt’s eyes travel up and down Blaine’s body, slowly dragging glances as if proving a point until they land back up on his face, where he’s watching Kurt back cautiously. It’s like one of those slow-mo moments when everything happens at the same, realization dawns and there’s too much time but also not enough. Blaine, the reporter and the camera guy also, all seem to catch on to Kurt’s thought train just as Kurt starts grinning shyly. 

 

“No freaking way, Blaine is your model for your new range? Wow! Good call!” The reporter has his shit eating grin pasted firmly back in place as the camera guys starts zooming in on Blaine’s suit. Blaine looks like he doesn’t know where to place himself, his eyes darting over his own body like he’s suddenly naked, his cheeks flushing adorably. Before he can look back at Kurt and at least try to say something coherent Kurt starts speaking again, seemingly unfazed and unaware of the mini panic attack Blaine thinks he’s going through. 

 

“Well no, not willingly anyway, it’s experimental like I said, nothing’s set in stone, but the suit that Blaine is wearing is going to be featured somehow somewhere, the one I’m wearing too, but I’ve spent a lot longer on Blaine’s, I’m rather proud of it and I must admit I can’t imagine anyone else doing it quite as much justice.” The reporter for the first time in the past four minutes has gone quiet, and when Blaine is able to pull his eyes away from Kurt’s face he sees that the guy and the camera guy are grinning from ear to ear, looking between the two of them. 

 

Kurt wraps up the interview pretty rapidly after that, a photo is taken for the guy’s website and Kurt thanks him for being kind and polite and promises to talk to him next time they cross paths. Blaine gives a bashful grin and a wave and then he’s following Kurt back along the bulk of the carpet, where event staff are starting to usher the guests inside of the theater. More photos are taken, the flashes and the sounds seeming to rain down on them from all directions, Kurt pulls Blaine to the side as they reach the entrance just before they step inside.

 

“I um, I should have told you I know, I’m sorry if I put you on the spot, but it’s just that-” 

 

They’re standing just by the corner of the building, in the shadows of one of the main beams of spotlights, there’s a barrier to the right of them, and an on-hand ambulance and paramedics team parked up to the left, along with a team of security, all wide shoulders and bulked arms. They’re not exactly standing in complete privacy, but they’re also not in the direct public eye. 

 

Blaine tugs Kurt’s hand out from where it’s been clinging to the inner lining of his pants pocket, he squeezes his fingers around his quickly, reassuringly. He drops his voice, barely above a whisper.   
“Hey no sorry’s ok, you got me and I got you, it’s cool, honestly, I’m-I’m speechless Kurt, I’m touched, but now’s not the time or the place to get into that.” Blaine’s eyes sparkle under the night sky as Kurt hangs on every word he says, his own eyes wide and bright and glistening. 

 

Kurt smiles shyly and leans in closer, Blaine’s lips part automatically, his eyes widening as he watches. Kurt really can’t be, he isn’t going to- is he-

 

Kurt gives Blaine’s hand one last squeeze before tugging and pulling until they both are stepping back out from beyond the shadows and rejoining the crowds who are currently filing into the building. At the very last second before they stumble into an older actor who Blaine recognises from a well known trilogy, Kurt unlinks their hands, sends a quick wink over his shoulder to Blaine and effortlessly strides through the doorway, murmuring something about needing a drink.

 

A drink sounds very good to Blaine right about now, the night is still young, and he gets the feeling that Kurt is not completely out of surprises just yet. Maybe he’ll get a double.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I know…

The movie is undoubtedly a success, the crowd lap it up, they laugh and cry and cheer in all of the right places and applaud at the end when the credits roll and the house lights come up. The actors are given their deserved praise and credited the right amount and then waves of security start herding everybody out safely, keeping the general public segregated from the not-so general public. 

 

Blaine would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it all rather fascinating and a little surreal and humorous. He keeps his head down and follows Kurt closely as they make their way out into the reception area where complimentary flutes of champagne are handed out along with serving trays of canapé’s. 

 

Kurt picks up two flutes on his way past, towards the lounge and bar area, he turns and hands one to Blaine who accepts it gratefully, taking a sip and enjoying the feeling of the bubbles popping down his throat and settling in his chest. They’d already had a glass when they’d entered the building upon arrival, and before settling down to watch the movie Kurt had ordered them a short each. 

 

Blaine feels loose, a little light headed, not too much when he’s slurring or feeling tipsy, just the right amount, and he knows that Kurt is relaxing now too, he can feel it. His earlier nerves and feeling of apprehension are starting to lift and he’s enjoying being involved in this event, being here and listening and watching all that is going on around him, he can get used to this he thinks, maybe, sometimes.

 

Kurt is enjoying himself too, even if he doesn’t always look like it, Blaine can tell by the subtle soft curve to his lips and the crinkle to the corner of his eyes when he thinks that nobody is paying him that much attention. Maybe it’s only Blaine who can actually see Kurt for who he really is, probably the only one in this crowd tonight anyway.   
He’s busy watching Kurt share small talk with a former colleague from a shared project some years ago, when his mind wanders elsewhere and his thoughts are redirected to a more personal headspace.

 

He wonders what it would be like if this was an event moulded around him, around his career and accomplishments, his types of people if he has a type, would he still feel a little out of his depth, would it take him as much time to adapt, would he even like it still. Blaine’s passion has always been music and performing, not the fame and the money that can come with it if success takes over. Blaine will always remain to be the sweet, caring, polite boy he was raised to be no matter how his life turns out. He knows that Kurt is the same, he sees and he can feel the sensitive, considerate side of Kurt that he keeps hidden inside, the side that is just for him and close friends and family, and wonders what ever made him loose his way and his self, why did he feel the need to start presenting himself in a different way to the outside eye, a way that could seem cold and harsh and disinterested, so unlike him.

 

Blaine knows that Kurt has started trying, not just with him, but with everyone in general, he’s trying with himself, to ease up and let go, Blaine can see the small changes in him everyday, the baby steps that he’s trying to make. But there is still that distinct way in which he closes himself off from certain people, like he has two personalities, one for the people he trusts and one for the people he doesn’t. 

 

They’re sitting on a cream leather couch, tucked away in an intimately corner, sipping from their glass flutes and nibbling on Palma ham and sweet potato Rosti’s that have just been served, whilst making polite small talk with other guests, sharing opinions on the movie. Some of them Blaine recognises instantly, some of them he has a vague distant recognition of and others Blaine wonders how in the hell they ever got an invite, as they make their way around the room, schmoozing at every possible chance. 

 

“Kurt? Kurt Hummel? And what in the world is it that we owe this extreme pleasure to?” Blaine whips his head around to the new voice that has rudely interrupted their current quiet flow of friendly chatter, approaching their area in an easy, obnoxious stroll. He see’s a man who he recognises instantly from multiple magazine covers and commercials, the guy’s tall and good looking but with unnatural tanned skin, highlighted hair flicked up and a sharp cut tux, he seems like the type of guy who is hired more for his face rather than his intellect and talent and skills, if he has any. Kurt keeps his eyes on the couple he had been talking to, unmoving though Blaine can feel his shoulders tense beside him, his whole body posture shifting to something more closed off and guarded when he hears the man’s voice. 

 

Blaine looks between the two, slightly dumbfounded, not sure what to do or say, Kurt appears completely disinterested, not bothering to turn to the stranger or show any interest in him in the slightest, instead continuing his conversation with the couple who now look to be as awkward as Blaine feels.

 

“Oh come on Kurt, you’re not still giving me the cold shoulder are you?” The guy’s tone is dripping with sarcasm and dry humour, teasing and slightly clipped, like he’s truly enjoying something that he clearly shouldn’t be. At that Kurt turns in his seat, offering the other couple a tight smile who have decided to stand and venture somewhere else, there is a moment where Blaine wishes he could follow them. This is very obviously going to be an awkward exchange, he can feel the icy atmosphere already forming between Kurt and whoever this guy is.

 

“Oh hello Bret, sorry I clearly didn’t hear you there, or see you,” Kurt lifts his flute to his lips and Blaine can hear him murmur something lowly under his breath before it’s drowned out by liquid fizz.

 

“Clearly,” Bret repeats, his lightly trimmed eye brows drawn so much they almost seem like one, smile obscenely white and too wide. He’s holding a small glass tumbler filled with a dark and too strong smelling liquid, he swirls it around pointlessly as he turns to Blaine, extending his free hand, his green eyes flashing and lightening and he doesn’t even try to hide the way his gaze drinks Blaine in, looking at him from head to toe. “Bret Smith Jr, pleasure.”   
It’s rather obvious now that guy has maybe enjoyed more than one of those glasses, he’s not slurring or acting at all outlandish, but his balance is wavering gently, his eyes a little glazed.

 

“Oh um,” Blaine fumbles to switch his champagne flute to the other hand so that he can shake hands appropriately, “yes, likewise, um Blaine, Blaine Anderson.” 

 

“Cute.” Bret drawls, almost a tad too long, too low, he turns to Kurt. “I’d heard on the old grapevine that you’d got yourself one of these,” His eyes flick to Blaine, up and down, like he is some kind of pet ready for taking. “I think I may have to invest myself.”   
Kurt’s upper lip curls with disdain as he drains his glass, puts it down a little too heavily on a nearby glass table top and stands, pulling at Blaine’s arm as he does, Blaine does the same with his glass as best he can. Kurt doesn’t even bother to dignify whatever Bret was implying with a response.

 

“Well this has been just lovely Bret, pleasure as always, but we must be going-” Kurt does not sound like he has had a pleasurable experience in the slightest and Blaine is pulled to his feet clumsily as Kurt’s finger’s curl around the curve of his elbow and rest securely within the soft crook.

 

“Now, now let’s not be too hasty Kurt, please let’s catch up, it’s been too long. Please do enlighten me about your life these days and your… Blaine.” Bret tilts his head to the side, his eyes are gleaming and his words are laced with obvious mischief, the way he keeps looking between the two and more so at Blaine is a way that Blaine has never been looked at before, it’s far too lecherous and Blaine is growing uncomfortable by the minute, but there is something that is peaking his curiosity with this whole situation. Bret sidesteps subtly so that he is now standing in the way of Kurt and Blaine’s exit path, and the only way past is too shuffle closely past him or just plough him down, and Blaine is getting the feeling that Kurt would have no issue with the latter.

 

Blaine can practically feel Kurt vibrating in annoyance beside him from where their arms are linked securely, Kurt’s fingers are tightening around Blaine’s arm with each deep breath he makes.   
“As much as that sounds positively wonderful and an offer that one simply could not refuse, I must still do so, Blaine and I have plans tonight.” 

 

Blaine manages to sneak a sideways glance up at Kurt and has to hold back a soft gasp. Kurt’s eyes are so very wide and clear, like storm clouds swirling and raging, his face is set into perfect hard yet gorgeous lines, eyebrows drawn downwards, but his smile is absolutely dazzling, shining with a hint of something almost dangerous. 

 

Bret doesn’t respond nor does he move, only raises his glass tumbler up to his mouth and takes a drink, eyebrow quirked, something is clearly amusing him. He swallows, the action too visible and too loud in his throat and then takes another drink, his eyes hard and never leaving Kurt’s, only to casually roll over to Blaine, like he’s got all of the time in the world, and Kurt and Blaine must simply wait for him. 

 

Kurt rolls his eyes up towards the ceiling, he inhales deeply like he’s drawing strength somehow, his smile begins to drop before it widens again, impossibly brighter, and then his gaze is fixed on Bret’s once again. He takes a step forward, shoulders rolling, almost menacing until he and Bret are nearly brushing chests. Kurt’s hand falls from Blaine’s arm and Blaine takes the opportunity to step back a little, he self consciously glances around the room, just to make sure that nobody is watching. 

 

Blaine has genuinely no idea what is about to happen, but he doesn’t think it’s something that needs an audience, particularly this kind of influential audience. Thankfully nobody seems to be paying them any attention, the room is large and wide, spread out over different levels, and lit rather dimly to fit the mood, packed out with guests, security and wait staff, there’s a guy playing a piano rather loudly in the corner and the melody is only just carrying over the noise of chatter and clinking glasses. 

 

This is the side of Kurt that Blaine has read about it on those gossip sites and pages, this is the no nonsense, no bullshit, talented and uniquely clever Mr Big Money that Kurt is often referred to. Blaine wonders what this guy, this smarmy Bret, has ever done to Kurt to receive such a frosty reception from him. Finally the guy lowers his glass and tips it on an angle towards them in a questioning gesture, that god awful smirk still sitting on his shiny lips. Actually Blaine doesn’t have to wonder, he thinks he can see exactly why Kurt is getting so worked up by his presence, no matter their history, and there is obviously history between them. “Are you two going to the after party? We should definitely share a car-”

 

Kurt drops his tone to a low rumble, Blaine thinks that if he was to place his palm over Kurt’s back then he would be able to feel the words as Kurt hisses them sharply, deep through his chest, his face still bright and beaming as he speaks.   
“Listen here, Bret Smith Junior,” His words are enunciated perfectly clear, his vowels punctuated with a little bite, “We both know how this is going to go down, if you want to push me, by all means push me, but you’re not going to come out of this victorious, you never have, never will.” 

 

Kurt pauses and glances around the room, there is a photographer making her way towards them from the opposite side of the room and Bret follows Kurt’s eye line as Kurt grins fiercely upon noticing her. Nobody wants bad press, not even people as desperate as Bret. Bret straightens up, his smirk sliding to one side a little, as Kurt continues. “There’s a lot of people here tonight Bret, you don’t really want them all to see you on the wrong side of my tongue, once again do you?” Bret’s lips tighten into a thin line, his fingers tightening around his glass so much that Blaine thinks the thing is going to shatter in his hand in any moment. 

 

“So what I suggest you do, is get the hell out of my way and let me bid you a goodnight and hopefully a final farewell for a very long time.” Bret swallows hard and Blaine thinks he can almost hear it, he thinks he can see a light sheen of sweat break out on the guy’s fake-tanned forehead, but he doesn’t want to be presumptuous. Bret finally lowers his gaze, his chin tilting downwards as if he’s nodding a simple parting farewell and steps to the side. Kurt instantly steps forward, knocking shoulders with him maybe a little too forcibly and the guy has to right himself, and rebalance his position. 

 

Kurt suddenly swings back around, his head twisting on his shoulders and pinning Bret with an almighty frightening glare, frightening because at the same time Kurt’s face is so soft, yet so passive and that smile is wondrous. “Oh and don’t ever look or talk about my Blaine like that, ever again, it does not matter to you whatsoever who or what part he plays in my life, just know that he’s mine regardless, and not for your tasteless mouth to run about, got it?” 

 

Holy shit. Blaine can feel his temples pound along with his heart in his chest, he can feel an incredulous giggle creep its way up and through his throat and has to fight to keep it down, his lips pressed firmly closed. Something warm and heavy spreads through him starting from the pit of his stomach and working its way up, something kind of freeing, beating wildly in his chest and pumping through his veins. Blaine doesn’t want to label it, he doesn’t want the words to enter his head, but he knows what this feeling is, and he fucking loves it, so much that it almost scares him. 

 

Kurt reaches past Bret who visibly tenses, unsure what Kurt is going to do, until Kurt grabs hold of Blaine’s arm, hooking his hand through his elbow and pulling him gently back in step with him. Their eyes lock to each others, smouldering dark and deep, Blaine licks at his dry lips, he wants to say something, do something, but before he can get the chance Kurt is already turning away and breezing off into the room, tugging Blaine along with him effortlessly. 

 

Blaine manages one last look behind to find Bret staring down into his tumbler, looking positively ashen, struggling and trying so very hard to keep his composure, Blaine almost feels sorry for him, until the guy suddenly sniggers and looks up, catching his eye accidently. He calls out towards their retreating bodies, and Blaine can see the sting forming before he hears it. 

 

“Yes, you are right about one thing Hummel, I must have a lack of taste to ever have been associated with you.” 

 

Blaine feels the electric current, ignite deep from Kurt’s chest and run through him, sparking outwards through their light touch, he freezes in place, and Blaine almost stumbles into his heels. Blaine thinks that Kurt is going to turn back around, maybe march over there and give the guy what for, or god forbid maybe even worse, but Kurt doesn’t turn around, he doesn’t even move his head. Blaine can see a slight a tremor in his jaw from where he’s watching closely, stood behind him and then Kurt starts moving forward again, never looking back. 

 

They make it to the exit where there’s a man with an electronic device ready to key in codes and numbers to call for the guest’s specific car’s to come for pick up. Kurt makes eye contact with the man who immediately starts tapping onto his little screen and speaking into a headset, whilst nodding at Kurt politely. The official press reporter for the whole event and her team of photographers and media agents are hovering around the doors, making sure they get snippets from everyone there before they leave and Kurt makes a beeline for her, leaving Blaine fumbling after him.

 

Kurt reaches the door, Blaine in tow, and just as the doorman pulls the door open wide for them to step through with a polite nod and a smile, Kurt turns to the smartly dressed lady who appears to have every gadget going strapped and wired up to her. They catch eyes, and she smiles big and wide and toothy like she’s won the lottery, Kurt doesn’t give her a chance to say anything. 

 

“Those rumours about Bret Smith Junior? All true. And by the way he most certainly does not, if you know what I mean.” Kurt’s tone is so calm and even, so well mannered even though Blaine can tell he is positively seething. Blaine has to stifle his giggle once again, Kurt is not violent or aggressive but his tongue is a powerful weapon not to be reckoned with. Before the woman gets the chance to function correctly, he’s gone, out of the door towards the collection point and Blaine is almost fleeing after him, head reeling. 

 

*

 

“So you’re really not going to tell me what happened then?” 

 

Kurt remains silent, his fist pressed to his chin, elbow resting on the edge of the inner car door, glaring out of the tinted window as the city whirs past in hazes and flashes of colour and noise. He’s clinging to a bottle of vodka in his spare hand that is kept in a cooler in the back of the car. He’s already taken too many swigs straight from the bottle that Blaine cares to think about. He’s almost shaking with anger. Sam looks to Blaine through the rear view mirror for help, but Blaine is just as speechless, he shrugs and shakes his head, biting his lip.

 

“Ok, so am I taking you guys to the after party, or-”

 

“No, home. Please. Just take us home. Thank you Sam.” Kurt’s words are clipped and Blaine knows that’s he trying not to blow it completely. He doesn’t mean to take it out on Sam, they all know this. Blaine, unsure what to do, decides to press the button on the control pad of his door and watches as the privacy divider starts to hum it’s way up. Sam nods in silent acknowledgement through the mirror and flicks on the car radio so that music is now only filtering through the speakers in the front of the car.  
Sam is probably completely used to this, Blaine can only imagine how many times Sam has been subjected to this behaviour. He wonders how many times he will have to be subjected to this in the future, although it has been a year and this is the worst yet.

 

Blaine blows out a deep breath and twists in his seat as best as he can under the restrain of the seatbelt. He fidgets with his bowtie and loosens it a little, his throat muscles relaxing with the freedom. He drums his finger tips lightly along the leather stitched cushions beside his thigh, to keep from reaching out, he knows that Kurt won’t appreciate it right now. “Kurt?”

 

“Don’t Blaine.” His words are almost croaked. Blaine sighs, feeling slightly pissed because for once they weren’t bothered by press or fans, no tonight it had to be an idiotic blast from Kurt’s past, Blaine had forgotten to factor that possibility into the equation. 

 

“Kurt don’t let that asshole, whoever he was, an idiot on an ego trip, ruin a good night, I had fun, and you did too, I know you did.” He waits. Nothing. Just the sloshing of vodka as it’s raised to Kurt’s lips and back down again. 

 

In most instances the probable best thing to do is in fact let it go, let Kurt ride out his emotions and sleep it off. But Blaine knows better now, he knows Kurt, and this is something he strongly believes needs to be aired out, for no reason other than helping Kurt calm down and ease out his bad mood. 

 

There is obviously an issue with that Bret guy, an issue personal to Kurt and that means that there is an element of him which is probably part of the reason why Kurt is the way that he is, and because Blaine is hell bent on helping Kurt and making him feel more comfortable in his own skin, that means he has to get to the bottom of this Bret issue. Dangerous territory, but important all the same, he keeps his voice even and steady and most importantly softly quiet and calm. 

 

“What happened in there Kurt? What was that douche bag even talking about? Is he an ex or something?”

 

“He wishes. An acquaintance if that, no, a mistake, that’s who he is, a joke.” The words are bitten out with a slight growl and Blaine feels like he’s being spoken at rather than to or answered, but it’s a start, at least Kurt’s talking at all. 

 

“So you’ve, you and he have-”

 

“Once, a long time ago, never again. He’s only after one thing, only cares about himself. They’re all like that.” It’s like he’s talking in riddles, in cryptic code and Blaine has to try and store some of these words away in his memory to try and decipher later. 

 

Kurt still isn’t facing him or making any sudden or large movements, but if Blaine squints carefully he can just make out Kurt’s pale reflection in the car window. He can see the sad glimmer in his ocean like eyes, the wrinkled frown in his brow and the slight pout of his pretty lips. Blaine wishes he could just spin him around and take him in his arms, not yet.

 

“You know there’s no doubt going to be repercussions from what you said to that lady on the way out.” Kurt shrugs and tsk’s. “Probably wasn’t the smartest thing you could have done.” Kurt doesn’t move. 

 

Blaine thinks about staying up all night, logging on to the news site’s and reading the entertainments headlines first thing in the morning, he thinks about how he can somehow perform some damage control. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t hear, or understand properly, she did look a little perplexed. Or maybe that whatever does come out in the wash may end up being in Kurt’s favour somehow. Blaine doesn’t know enough about the situation to think too deeply about it and Kurt clearly couldn’t care less at this moment in time, so maybe he should just drop it for the time being. 

 

“I’ve never seen you like that before Kurt.” 

 

“Like what?” Kurt’s voice is soft and he hesitates before he answers, he takes another small sip from the bottle and slowly begins to turn around, Blaine tucks himself further into the back of the seat, facing him fully, giving him his undivided attention, eyes, ears and body. Kurt watches him curiously, like he’s trying to work out what Blaine is thinking without just asking him and talking to him like Blaine wishes he would.

 

“Like the way you were with him, and when, when he was talking about me, what you said and how you said it.” Kurt begins to inch closer to Blaine, the glass bottle trembling in his hand, his suit sliding gloriously across the leather interior. Blaine swallows hard, Kurt’s eyes are darkening and he’s tugging his plump, liquor soaked bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth. 

 

“I’ve told you that I care about you Blaine, you know that, I couldn’t have him of all people, talk about you that way, nobody get’s to talk about you that way, or look at you like that, like you’re-”

 

“What did he mean when he said ‘one of these’ about me Kurt?” Blaine’s skin prickles. This is not the best time to go down this road, Kurt’s swigging from that bottle like its holy water and they’ll be home soon and Sam will be parking up and wanting to escort them from the car so that he can get home. But it’s too late, Kurt’s not inebriated, not even close, not yet, and now that it’s out there Blaine wants, needs to know more. 

 

“A PA, that fucking asshole doesn’t understand the meaning of the word, he’ll only take advantage, he’s not worthy of y-of somebody like you.” Kurt draws closer and Blaine moves to meet him, their thighs rubbing together, knees knocking. Blaine curls his fingers around the neck of the vodka bottle, pries it from Kurt’s fingers and takes a small sip himself before capping the top and putting it down in a holder. The vodka burns as it trickles down his throat, the scent strong in his nose and everything seems suddenly intensified. The back of the car seeming suddenly darker and smaller and Kurt is just there. He places his hand on Kurt’s knee, and grips soft but firm.

 

“K-Kurt, can I ask you something?” It’s something he’s been thinking about for a long time, something he’s been silently suspicious of and now it’s on the tip of his tongue, curdling up his throat along with the traces of liquor. He’s not drunk but he feels it, he feels light headed and like he can already taste regret on his tongue, but he must say this, he must know. 

 

Kurt nods, his pupils almost blown, breath escaping his lips in short warm huffs which fan against Blaine’s chin and jaw. 

 

“When-when you hired me it was, it was Carole’s suggestion wasn’t it, she-she helped you look for a PA, she had set the ball in motion?” Kurt nods again, his eyes widening yet softening at the same time, like he’s almost expecting what Blaine is going to say next.

 

Blaine opens his mouth, his words coming out too breathy and soundless, an almost stutter, he tries again. “But, it wasn’t a PA you wanted though, was it. You didn’t necessarily need one?” Kurt doesn’t move or answer, but he continues looking, silently, patiently, his eyes so wide, his face almost expressionless. He’s waiting, waiting for Blaine to continue.

 

Blaine’s throat feels like sandpaper, his tongue too big and too heavy, he breathes and calms himself, doesn’t look away from Kurt’s piercing gaze, somehow he draws strength from looking at him so deeply.   
“You, you wanted a friend, Carole wanted a friend for you, somebody you could rely on and become close to, somebody new, with no connections to your past.” He pauses and Kurt blinks at him, those lashes so long, fanning his rosy cheeks as they flutter downwards, Blaine thinks he’s possibly become mute. Blaine carries on though, his voice is barely there anymore, hoarse and rough, but nothing but sincere and earnest.

 

“And-and so you chose me, why did you choose me?” Kurt’s lips part, his pink tongue slick and wet darting out to lick self consciously along the crease, his words rush out of him like their burning his throat, rasped and rough. He looks so broken and beautiful and Blaine can barely stop himself from taking those lips between his own.

 

“Because you were somebody, not just anybody, I knew that about you from the moment I saw you, I-I’ve tried so hard to fight these feelings back or you, but I-I just couldn’t let you walk out of that building that day, I knew that I had to know you.” 

 

Blaine imagines that this is what it feels like to be drowning, or something like it, like your throat is closing and you just can’t breathe no mater how much you gulp and you gulp, your head is filling and spiralling and everything is too much and also not enough. He will never forget the way that Kurt is looking at him right now, it’s probably the most haunting, stunning sight he’s ever seen. Blaine has never felt so much in his life, than he has in this one moment, feeling everything and nothing all at the same time. His hand is trembling against Kurt’s knee, he lifts it shakily to raise to Kurt’s face, his neck, anywhere he can.

 

“Kurt-”

 

The car screeches to a halt, and there’s a rumbling outside, Blaine looks out of the window and Kurt looks out of the other one to see that they’re home, pulling into the condo’s underground garage and the electronic shutters are sliding closed all around them, the garage lighting up all around outside of the tinted windows. 

 

Blaine can’t get any words from his head onto his tongue fast enough, can’t get his limbs to connect with his brain, to move, to do something, anything, and then Sam is opening his door, waiting patiently outside. 

 

Kurt blinks at him silently, he fidgets, his hands in his lap, shoulder’s hunching inwards, he looks utterly lost. Blaine doesn’t even think, doesn’t care about the open door and Sam standing aimlessly just out of sight, he reaches for Kurt and there’s a moment, a short a crazy moment where Kurt looks like he’s letting him, pushing himself forwards to meet Blaine, and then he stands as best he can and climbs out of Blaine’s side of the car, clambering over the top of him.

 

Blaine isn’t quite sure what the hell has just happened, all he can hear is the pounding of his heart flooding his ears and the sounds of Kurt’s shoes meeting the concreted ground, echoing off of the empty walls as he makes his way over to the elevator shaft. 

 

Blaine’s chest thumps for a moment, and then he’s getting up too and gliding out of the car after Kurt, all but running across the lot, with Sam, left standing flabbergasted by the vacant car, totally forgotten about.

 

This conversation is far from over, not for Blaine, not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- … I know… sorry and you’re welcome and thank you so much. Until next time.


	17. Chapter 17

The coffee is too strong, it looks too dark and smells too bitter, Blaine didn’t even out the mixture onto the measuring scoop before dumping it into the filter, and he didn’t let the milk steam for long enough or stir the finished product correctly in the mug, one way and then the other, like Kurt likes it. He knows and yet unusually and uncharacteristically for him doesn’t care, and he completely bypasses the chocolate chip cookies on the way out of the kitchen, if Kurt wants them so bad, then he can come and get them himself.

 

Blaine’s being petulant and immature, he knows this too, but he can’t quite find it in himself to stop, or to care. It’s been four days. Four days since the movie premier, four days since Kurt opened himself up a little bit more to Blaine, knocked him speechless and then proceeded to lock himself in his bedroom and refuse to talk to him any further about what happened and what was said that night, in true Kurt fashion of course. And honestly it’s all growing a little tiresome for Blaine. Could he honestly say that he was expecting anything different? Could his heart be foolishly trying to win over his head?

 

Blaine promised himself that he wouldn’t let Kurt continue like this, wouldn’t let him handle his issues this way, the conversation wasn’t, isn’t over but he doesn’t know how else to get through to Kurt without pushing the boundaries and knocking them out of place altogether completely. 

 

He knows that it’s different now, that whatever it is they’re up to, is now slightly more than casual, and that the mystery and puzzle of one Kurt Hummel is slowly starting to unravel and piece together, and Blaine had vowed to allow time for it all to work out. But he’s just having one of those days, he cares about Kurt completely, undoubtedly, wholly, and he had thought vice versa. But right now he can’t see the caring side of Kurt that he knows is there deep down, Kurt is keeping him hanging on, ignoring him, only talking to him in a professional and business like manner, and he must know that it is driving Blaine crazy, yet he’s still doing it. 

 

Now it’s Wednesday afternoon, they’ve hardly spoken to each other the past few days, accept for when they’ve strictly needed to, and the conference meeting in the board room had been less than pleasant, but they managed nonetheless. They hadn’t spent a night together in god knows when, and the built up frustration mixed with everything else was becoming achingly unbearable. Santana had called earlier to say that she would be dropping by tonight to do some chores and Blaine is looking forward to that as much as he would be having a mouth full of nails, he just can’t shake his mood.

 

Blaine picks up the coffee mug haphazardly, some of the dark liquid sloshing over the edge and spilling onto the counter top. He leaves the small puddle with a grumble and makes his way back into the office. He can hear Kurt’s side of the phone conversation he’s currently having as he nears the doorway. Kurt has been making and taking these phone calls regularly all week, ever since word got out about his mysterious new fashion line he’s been bombarded with calls and emails, requests and offers for interviews. 

 

Thankfully nothing had came of the spur of the moment comment Kurt had passed to the reporter at the end of the night about that jackass Bret guy, and Blaine hasn’t heard of or about him since, which he’s thankful for. He doesn’t need to add that to his list of concerns also. He thinks that Bret had obviously thought better of trying to stir anything further, is the guy wants to keep whatever career he has then not messing with Kurt Hummel is probably the best way to go about it. 

 

Blaine has never seen his inbox so full, invitations and freebies, all from people and companies trying to know more, trying to get what they can. His phone has been blowing up too, messages and calls, social media notifications from almost everyone, his family and friends, people he hasn’t spoken to in years, all because of the pictures and the cell phone videos that had been uploaded from Saturday night. 

 

Cooper  
Wow, look at you out on the flashy carpet with the big leagues, hot stuff!! P.S Next time, get me an invite.

 

He smirked at that one.

 

Mom  
You look very handsome Blaine. Your father told me to tell you that he looked up the reviews for the movie you went to see and that it doesn’t sound like his kind of thing, but as long as you enjoyed yourself. Take care. Mom x

 

He rolled his eyes at that one.

 

Unknown  
Hey Blaine? Is this still your number? It’s Thad, Thad from school. I seen you in a newspaper, looking good dude, your doing well for yourself I see, you wanna get coffee sometime? Text me back when you can.

 

He deleted that one. 

 

Every other message followed with a similar pattern. He knew how to differentiate the genuine messages from the not so genuine ones. He had taken his brother’s advice that he’d given him during their heart to heart out on the beach in LA, and had gotten back in touch with some of his closest friends from the past, the ones that he knew he could trust. He was enjoying catching up with them, sharing stories and reminiscing, surprised and happy to find that they weren’t judgemental or whatever he thought they would be for some reason, just happy to hear from him, and looking forward to a meet up in a few weeks time when everything wasn’t so chaotic. 

 

Cooper  
Btw…model? ;) 

 

Oh yeah, that’s another thing that he and Kurt really should talk about soon, the fact that Kurt had knowingly dressed him in one of his own, stunning new designs, and then allowed him to parade around in the spotlight, under scrutinising eyes. Yes it had floored him at first, made him speechless and the ache in his chest to spread and thump double time, but now with every passing minute, every irritating comment and message Blaine is becoming less touched with the idea and rapidly more annoyed. It’s not that he hasn’t considered it, its that Kurt just won’t talk to him about it, or anything at all, unless it suits him.

 

“Yes Blaine is, well he’s very-” Blaine stops in the doorway, his hand holding Kurt’s coffee mug suspended in midair, as Kurt swings around in his desk chair, his eyes connecting with Blaine’s and his words abruptly cut off. Blaine steps forward towards the desk, and lowers the cup as well as his gaze. Kurt continues but lowers his voice. “He’s very important to me, he’s become somewhat priceless, to um Kurt Hummel enterprizes-no well, I don’t know, modelling is not something we have discussed, it’s not in his contract- look it was just an off hand jokey comment ok-”

 

Blaine can hear the rise in Kurt’s voice, can tell how frustrated he’s growing and is not surprised to hear Kurt end the call moments later with a hurried, “No more comments, thank you for your time.” He sets down the mug and looks back up at Kurt, who is watching him carefully.

 

“Thank you-”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“You’d think they’d get bored of it by now-”

 

“You would.” 

 

“Where’s your coffee?”

 

“I didn’t want one.”

 

“Are you being serious right now?”

 

“I’m cutting back-”

 

“Not about the coffee, are you still not talking to me?”

 

“We’re talking right now Kurt.” 

 

“You know what I mean-”

 

“You wouldn’t talk when I wanted to, so no I don’t know what you mean Kurt.” He drops his gaze a little self consciously. He steps back and heads towards the direction of his own office, not even turning back when he calls out, “I’ll be in here if you need me, ok.”

 

He’s just sat down at his desk when his name is called from next door, the tone a slight hint of teasing. He bites his lip, swallows a grumble and stands, re-entering Kurt’s office to find him sitting there, right where he left with him, with bright sparkling eyes and a mischievous little smirk trying to hide away at the corner of his mouth. “Yes?” 

 

“I need you, you said you’ll be there if I need you?”

 

Blaine clenches his jaw, cocks a hip, pins his hands to his sides, “And? What can I do for you?” He tries to disguise the bite in his tone, but Kurt is just too much right now.

 

“Where are the cookies?” It almost hurts at how much he has to stop himself from eye rolling, something he’d learnt from Kurt himself.

 

“Didn’t know you wanted them.”

 

“I always want them.”

 

“Well we’re out, sorry.” Oh grow up Blaine. He swivels on a foot towards the door.

 

“Blaine-” It’s more like and whine and Blaine tries not to crack, tries to look anywhere but Kurt’s unfairly handsome face, grinning at him like a naughty kid.  
“Are you going to tell me about the fashion line? Am I going to be hounded for modelling shoots?” 

 

“Wh-what?” Kurt looks almost affronted. “No of course not, that was, Blaine that’s just-” 

 

“Can I get back to work now?” There’s a deep sigh and a wrap of knuckles against the desk.

 

“We’ll talk ok, I promise we’ll talk, whatever it is that’s bugging you, just not now, not yet. And don’t worry about the suit, that’s the last one I’ll ask you to wear.” Blaine’s nods and looks up, Kurt’s smile has dropped, he looks crestfallen and defeated. Blaine silently and swiftly leaves the room, his heart clenching in his chest at the sight of Kurt, but he’s just not in the mood for Kurt’s games, not today.

 

*

 

Blaine finally logs off of the computer at Six-forty seven, he’s waited and procrastinated and pretended to work for as long as he can. Even with the slight fanfare and hysteria and rush of work from the premier on Saturday, the working week has still been relatively slow and boring and Blaine has found himself mostly looking for things to do, making more unnecessary work for himself, which isn’t helpful when he’s purposefully trying to make himself busy and useful and unavailable. 

 

He’d heard Kurt leave his office a short a while ago, around the time that Santana had shown up, and noisily made her away around the condo, cleaning and making quick work of chores and titbits. He can hear them chattering on from the living area, hearing the clatter of glasses and dishes. He’s hungry, tired and irritated and honestly cannot think of anything worse than joining them in there right now. Quietly he exits the office, shutting the light off and clicking the door shut softly, before padding his way over to the elevator and pressing the button to call for it. 

 

“You’re going out?” He jumps and turns to find Kurt standing in the doorway, he hadn’t even realised that Kurt and Santana had stopped talking, too caught up in his own thoughts and bad mood.

 

“Um yeah.”

 

“Are you um-can I come?” Kurt looks at him, his head tilted to the side, Blaine can’t quite fathom his expression but it’s something close to both helpless and hopeful.

 

“I um I think I’m just going to go for a walk,” He clears his throat and motions around his head, suddenly feeling guilty and unsure for some reason, “I’ve um got a head ache, need some fresh air, and some time to clear it.” The elevator arrives and the doors slide open and before Blaine can change his mind or wait for Kurt to try and say something he steps inside and pushes the down button.

 

He just catches Kurt’s lost, pained look in his cloudy eyes before the doors press together with a metal clang and he starts to descend. 

 

*

 

Blaine’s sitting on a bench in Central Park with a half empty cup of cold Chai tea latte and a half eaten Pretzel with random bites and nibbles taken out of all areas of it. The sky is darkening, later in the day than usual, later than what it has been recently, Summer sure is coming around quicker this year, he can feel the trying warmth even in the late spring breeze. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but it feels like hours. There’s music playing softly in the distance, live street performers and Blaine closes his eyes, tapping a foot to the beat, he imagines his own guitar in his hands and the music flowing from him, easing his troubles, like only music seems to be able to do. 

 

A group of joggers whip past in a stampede and Blaine quickly moves his outstretched legs out of the way before he causes an accident. A dog meander’s its way over to him, clearly ignoring its owner who is shouting its name from over the green. The dog begs politely at his feet, sniffing at his forgotten pretzel with large brown eyes, and Blaine has to smirk at the sight, considering giving up his salted cinnamon treat to somebody who’s in a better mood to enjoy it.

 

He just can’t pinpoint what it is, yes he wants Kurt talk to him, and Kurt had said that he would, he knows that Kurt doesn’t like to discuss personal things during their work time, but honestly Kurt started this one himself, he’s so up and down, changing his mind and his rules so many time’s that Blaine doesn’t know where to put himself, doesn’t know what’s right or wrong of him anymore. It’s all becoming a too old, too tiring game, the same problems, the same conversations. He’s literally given himself a head ache from it all. Briefly, very briefly a feeling washes through him, a thought which makes him question everything he’s been working towards, a question that leaves him reeling. Is it all still worth it? Is it too late to back out? 

 

He dumps his take out cup in the trashcan beside the bench and is just about to give the whimpering dog his snack when somebody sits down beside him, uncomfortably close for a stranger.

 

“I hope you’re not about to give that up to that strange animal, I could just go for a half eaten, stale pretzel round about now.” Blaine smirks just as a sharp whistle sounds out from across the path and the dog runs off to its owner, tail between its legs. It’s both relieving and unsettling how just the sound of Kurt’s voice can calm Blaine, the pounding in his temples starts to drain along with the feel of the night’s air and the rustle of the tree’s and the distant sounds of chatter and live music. 

 

He looks up coming face to face with Kurt, who’s changed into a dark sweater and jeans and a scarf draped around his shoulders, the park is a little quieter now, and anybody who’s out certainly isn’t bothered about Kurt’s presence, sitting a little too closely to Blaine and looking too damn good, dressed down and casual. Blaine hands the pretzel to Kurt and offers a small smile and shrug of his shoulders. Kurt takes it wordlessly, rips a piece off but doesn’t put it in his mouth straight away.

 

“I um, I was going to call or text you, figured you may not pick up though, I actually was going to follow you out, but Santana stopped me.” Blaine nods, a little surprised at Kurt’s confession and watches as Kurt adorably starts to nibble on the small piece of baked bread in his hand, his gaze flicking around the lit park and occasionally landing back on Blaine.  
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok, I was um, worried about you. I figured you’d be around here somewhere.”

 

“You know me well.”

 

“Of course I do. Are you feeling better, are you ok?” Blaine nods and smiles a little brighter. Kurt nods down at the pretzel, “Was this your dinner?” Blaine shrugs and glances away, Kurt lets out a small snort of a chuckle.

 

“There’s pizza waiting for you, and seasoned potato skins if you want them, Santana ordered them, there’s enough to feed a small family for a week, fajita chicken and red peppers, your favourite-” Blaine smiles as Kurt adorably continues to ramble on quietly, Kurt is clearly trying to convey something, he’s trying to do something, make up for something. “She’s gone now, by the way. The house is empty.” Blaine nods, he’s not intentionally ignoring Kurt or being purposely quiet, he’s just enjoying this, this easy comfort between them and the way Kurt is so cautiously gentle with him. 

 

“So what is it that you want to know then, what is it that’s upset you so much?” Kurt’s voice is so quiet and soft and gentle, sincere, and it’s so strange that Kurt is choosing to talk about this here in the middle of an open public space, and not when ever Blaine had tried to bring it up privately. Yet somehow the thought warms him, it sends a spark of hope running through him, that Kurt is actually starting to unravel and is ok and proud with the idea of them, or anything that is to do with them and not hiding behind the walls and doors of their home.

 

“Honestly? I don’t even know anymore.” It’s the truth, but he still feels like an ass. “I’m sorry for acting like a kid today, I guess I just needed a time out or something.” Kurt nudges his knee against Blaine’s, and leaves it to rest there, Blaine feels warmth spread through him just through the small and simple touch between them, he’s breathing easier, feeling normal again. Why does Kurt have such an effect on him.

 

“You weren’t, don’t worry I get it, don’t apologise you don’t need to, I’m sorry I guess, for making you feel all worked up or whatever it is you’re feeling.” Blaine smiles at him and shrugs. “So are we good?” Blaine nudges his leg back against Kurt and nods. Kurt starts ripping up the rest of the pretzel and throws the crumbs behind them on a stretch of grass and greenery where a flock of birds are gathered. “So will you tell me what’s on your mind, please?” Blaine glances around the park, and blows a breath of steam into the cooling night’s air.

 

“Can we walk? Would you mind?” Kurt is already standing, burying his chin down into his scarf and digging his hands into his pockets, causing his arm to form an outward loop, a perfect, obvious invitation. Blaine takes it knowingly, threading his arm through Kurt’s and they begin to walk in step together.

 

They walk in a comfortable silence for a short while, making their way around one of the winding pathways, Blaine is almost smiling, feeling so relaxed so happy at the easiness between them, walking arm in arm through central park, uncaring, unhurried, it all just feels too right and Blaine is mad at himself for letting his brain lead him down a negative thought track. He looks up as he starts to speak and Kurt focuses on steering them expertly around the park.

 

“I guess I’ve just been tired, you’re kind of tiring,” He smiles and he knows that Kurt can see it through the corner of his eyes. Kurt laughs and nods, like he’s agreeing with Blaine. 

 

“Yeah, sorry about that-”

 

“But I just can’t grow tired of you, I just won’t, I can’t, you know?” Kurt looks at him then, his eyes so very blue in the highlighted shadows of the park lamps lining the pathways. Blaine swallows, blinking up at him, his voice feels a little too rough, his throat a little too dry. “I know what we talked about, what we agreed, and what I promised you, and I’m not taking any of that back, I’m not, it’s just that, it’s, you’re a lot, you’re everything actually, and I love spending time with you, I love working with you and just generally being with you, but you’re just a lot, sometimes I just don’t know what- oh god I’m sorry, I know I’m not making much sense-”

 

They stop and huddle to the side as a skater shoots past them suddenly, his skates clipping against the uneven pavement. “Blaine?” His name is hushed into the air between them, Blaine can feel Kurt’s breath against his face, smelling sweetly of sugar and pastry glaze, “I allowed that smarmy, pretentious asshole to get the better of me on Saturday night, and I’m sorry for that, I shouldn’t have, I should have handled it better and I promise I wont let that happen again, he’s just the last person I expected to see, and couldn’t deal with the way he was lurking around, it was you he wanted, he was trying to get to me through you.” 

 

They start walking again, Blaine peeks at him curiously. “I didn’t care you know that right? I didn’t care about him in the slightest, I wasn’t interested, I didn’t even know what he was talking about, but I could see he was clearly not on your nice list.”

 

“I know,” Kurt nods as he looks over at him, “I know you weren’t paying attention to him, I only wish that I had your nature, your patience and your calm, don’t worry we’ll never encounter anyone else like him again.” 

 

“I just want to know more Kurt, you tell me things and then you don’t expand, and I just feel so, so lost and confused, and I try not to be, I know it’s not my place to feel like that, I don’t expect anything from you but if you could just let me in a little-”

 

“Blaine, I just want you to know, that there is method to my madness, I’m not just all big bucks and big talk-”

 

“I know that Kurt-”

 

“I know I’m a lot to take in, but a lot was taken from me, too much, things that I can’t get back, things that money cant buy, I’ve learnt that now, it’s taken time but I’ve learnt, I’m still learning in fact, and I cant help but feel protective and possessive over what’s mine, what I’ve rightly worked for and what I deserve, it’s tough for me to talk about it, tough for me to open up, but with you I can, I know that I can but-”

 

“Kurt?” Blaine cuts him off, his arm tightening around their hold against each other, to get his attention, Kurt’s words are slicing into him, deep and sharp, it all feels like too much, chest thumping and skin prickling and not just because of the dropping temperature of the night air. He wants to hear, he wants Kurt to finish, but he knows what’s right and what isn’t, he wants Kurt to feel comfortable in telling him and not forced. His head is cleared, he feels better now, he knows that Kurt will tell him anything he wants to know, anything that he should know, he’s always known that he can trust Kurt to do that, he just lost himself slightly, too wrapped up in his own head. Suddenly everything seems so small, so childlike, the idiot from Saturday, Kurt’s new range, they’re all things that will come out, when they’re ready to come out. “Let’s finish this back at home, ok, let’s just go home.” 

 

They quickly and quietly make their way out of the park, heads ducked down as they separate briefly from their hold on each other and make their way out onto the side walk and across the street towards their block. By the time they get through the main lobby and into the elevator, barely stopping to grunt as politely as possible towards the elderly security guard, hearing him try to mutter something to them but miss it in their rush, Blaine is pushed up against the inner walls, his head colliding with the mirror along the back wall and his moans echoing out deliciously as Kurt attaches his lips to his throat, as the doors slide closed. 

 

“I’ve missed you Blaine, I’ve missed you like this, missed the sounds you make for me-” Each word is like a growl, accentuated with a slight nip and soft wet suck of soft lips.

 

Blaine knows that he should stop this, that he should put some space between them, let them talk things out some more, before they get to that, but god, this feels too good, Kurt feels too good, this feels too natural, too much like oxygen and earth and solid ground, like home. “K-Kurt, god-”

 

“I could have you right here, right now, you would let me wouldn’t you?” He would, god he would, anything. Blaine’s eyes roll back in his head, his hands tightening against Kurt’s sides as he draws him closer, god Kurt is unbelievable, he’s so-

 

Kurt cups him over his work slacks that he hadn’t changed out of and he’s suddenly thankful that he’s not wearing something as tight or restricting as denim. “Shit, Kurt-”

 

“This is our elevator Blaine, our private one, and nobody’s here in the condo, nobody’s expected to come up-” He trails his lips up Blaine’s neck, his jaw, his tongue flicks out and swirls around the lobe of his ear, his words whispering against the sensitive spot beside the nape of his neck, his hand rubbing relentlessly, fingers teasing at the zipper of his fly.  
“We could do whatever we wanted in here, up here out of the way, I could do whatever I want to you, you’re special to me Blaine, so special, you need to know that, need to know that I will always want you involved, always around, I could hardly stand it when you left earlier-”

 

“Oh god-” Blaine can feel himself hardening in his pants, he squirms under Kurt’s strong hold, barely making sounds as Kurt’s tongue teases his skin, it’s too much.

 

The elevator comes to a stop with a small jolt and the doors rumble open, but Kurt makes no effort to move, he pants against Blaine’s skin, writhing and rutting against his hip, and Blaine can feel how hard he is growing, how ready and wanting he is. Blaine tries to balance himself and slides his hands up to catch Kurt’s, tugging on his wrists.  
“Kurt come on, take me upstairs come on-” 

 

Kurt tears his lips away, panting roughly, the sound is wet and slick and entirely too delicious than it should be, and Blaine is almost too far gone already. Kurt’s eyes are blown, cheeks pink and hair a little dishevelled, his scarf is already lying in a heap on the floor in the corner of the elevator where Kurt had pulled it off from around his own neck and left it in his haste, it’s clearly going to have to just stay there for the time being.

 

Kurt moves them into the main entrance hall, kissing both hard and fast, and gentle and slow, taking turns, as if he cant decide how he wants it, how he needs it. They pause in the center, Kurt’s clearly deliberating whether to take this upstairs or through into the main room, Blaine is actually surprised that Kurt hasn’t already dropped to his knees right there and then. Kurt’s eyes flicker to the left, and Blaine realises what fabulous idea Kurt has struck up just as his blue eyes sparkle and his lips split into a seductive grin and starts pulling him towards the direction of the office.

 

And then they hear it, like suddenly the real world around them tunes back in, and the sounds of the television from the living room filters through, its sounds like sports, some kind of a game, there’s noises like a ruckus, cheering, heckling and whistling. Kurt scrunches his nose in thought, clearly he hadn’t left the TV on before he left, and definitely not a football game.

 

“Santana? Are you still here? Sam?” They are the only people who have the elevator code, the only people who they can think of who would be here, apart from Carole, but Carole wouldn’t come unexpectedly, not like last time, not again. They break apart and Kurt starts walking towards the living area just as they hear a clink of glass against the hardwood floorboard, like a bottle being placed down, followed by heavy foot steps. 

 

And then they spot it, Kurt first and then Blaine quickly afterwards with a soft gasp, a large black overnight bag, with some kind of faded logo on the front underneath the zipper, leaning up against the side wall. 

 

A man appears in the archway between the living room and the main hall, an older man, maybe in his mid forties, with thinning grey hair, a checked shirt and jeans that have probably seen better days, and a cap hanging limply from his hands. Blaine knows who this instantly, he can tell by the familiar glint and shade of his eyes, the look of sheer guilt and un-surety that is pasted on his face accompanied by a faltering grim smile. Blaine knows who this is before he hears Kurt breathe out the small, three lettered word, he suddenly sounds so small, so young, not angry or annoyed or anything close. Blaine can feel the emotion radiating from him, he can sense it all around, the love and the doubt and the guilt between these two men. He suddenly wishes he could be anywhere else. 

 

“Dad?”

 

“Hi Kurt. Carole told me how to punch in the pass code for the elevator if you weren’t in, fancy huh.” Blaine clears his throat and shifts his balance, he doesn’t mean to do it so loudly, to pull focus, but suddenly the man’s, Burt’s, eyes are on his and he’s stepping forwards, a hand held out.

 

“You’re Blaine yes?” Blaine steps forward, meeting his hand and offering a firm shake, he nods.

 

“Yes Sir and you’re Burt?” Burt nods once and steps back, there’s an odd twinkle in his eye, and look on his face that Blaine can’t quite place. He looks so much like Kurt with that not quite amused, yet not quite frowning expression that it’s almost eerie. 

 

“That’s me, good to meet you kid.”

 

“Oh um yeah, you too Burt.” Blaine does not know what to do or where to look, he’s only glad that his hard on seemed to have given up around the hearing seeing the bag time. He gestures to someplace over his shoulder, some place that is not right here. “I’m um, I’m just gonna go and-”

 

Burt chuckles a bit, “Cutting the intro’s a little short there?” That stops him in his tracks.

 

“Oh well I uh I, I just thought that you and Kurt would want to-”

 

“Well you thought wrong, it’s you I came to see kid-”

 

“Me?”

 

“Him?” Kurt’s voice is an almost screech, as he steps forward closer towards them, as if he’s just remembered that he’s still in the room and this situation is definitely happening, for real. 

 

Burt’s grin grows, a little crookedly as he scratches the whiskers on his chin, and slaps his cap against his thigh, whilst he starts to back step back into the living area, where the TV continues to play to itself.  
“Yup, you Blaine, I seen you two pasted all over the internet together and after what Carole had told me about what a good influence you’ve been around here, I thought it’s time we get better acquainted, you like football?” And with that Burt twists around and strides back towards to the TV, not even looking at Kurt once.

 

How the day had gone from bad to worse, to fucking fantastic, to holy shit-oh my god, Blaine will never know.


	18. Chapter 18

“So this is the little guy that Carole wont stop pestering me about huh?” Burt exclaims as Jester patters his way into the living room, and over to Burt sitting on the couch with a quiet mewl in greeting. Burt leans down and tentatively rubs between the cat’s ears as he perches himself between Burt’s feet, obviously unfazed by the new guest. 

 

“Yep, this is Jester,” Blaine says as he comes from the kitchen with another beer for Burt, “I’m surprised Carole didn’t try to pack him and take him back to Lima with her, she was quite taken with him.” Burt takes the bottle from Blaine with a smile and a nod and hands him his empty one in return.

 

“Thanks kid, I hope you didn’t mind me just helping myself to one of these when I got here, travelling makes me quite parched and honestly I was surprised to find a decent bottle of beer in there-” There’s a quiet scoff from over at the breakfast island, Blaine chooses to ignore it whilst Burt grins if not a little sheepishly and looks down at Jester who is now practically lying over his feet unashamedly.

 

Blaine takes the glass bottle over to the trash can in the kitchen and flips the lid using the metal foot pedal happily, “Oh no problem at all Burt, please do help yourself, anything you need at all, it’s yours.” He glances over at Kurt who is balanced rather uncomfortably looking on the edge of a stool, like he’s waiting to just get up and take off at any moment, a look on his face which indicates he’s listening but trying not to.

 

Blaine resists the urge to shake his head at him. Kurt’s dad is actually here, his dad who seems like a very nice man, a man who Kurt has spoken about so reverently, yet something has clearly went down between the two and they haven’t spoken in years, and here Kurt is ignoring him, sulking in his kitchen whilst Blaine tries to play happy families with a guy he’s just met. Blaine tries to nail him what he hopes to be a warning stare, which Kurt just gives to him straight back and twists around a little further on his stool. Blaine picks up his own bottle with a soft sigh and goes over to join Burt on the couch.

 

“Yeah, honestly I’m surprised that I haven’t come home from work yet to find a cat sitting in my chair and clawing at my cushions, or a puppy chewing my slippers.” Burt says with a smile, obviously continuing the pet conversation from before, Blaine wonders if its just slight nervous talk, an easy topic to break the ice.

 

It’s strange, Blaine feels awkward, because obviously the whole situation is awkward, but at the same time, it’s not. It’s literally only taken the amount of time needed for Blaine to fetch Burt a fresh drink to discover that Burt is actually very easygoing and calm, he’s very friendly and polite, and somewhat cool, surprisingly for somebody who Kurt has chosen to cut out of his life and also somebody who has technically just made a breaking and entering offence, technically. He’d heard about Burt, many stories from Carole, Sam and Santana and even the time that Kurt had chosen to talk about him, he also never thought that anybody as lovely and kind as Carole would choose to be married to anybody less than lovely and kind themselves. He never truly thought that Burt was some big mean monster type, and honestly he’s kind of glad to finally meet him, no matter how strange this all is.

 

“Jester’s too lazy to do any naughty cat stuff like that.” Blaine supplies with a grin and nudges at the cat gently with his foot as he tries to untie Burt’s shoe laces. “He’s just a pest, and a definite people person, or people cat rather.” 

 

Blaine thinks that he can hear Kurt quietly laughing muffled into his hand behind them, he can just picture his face, scrunched up and flushed, trying to face the other way. He catches a glimpse of Jester’s flashy collar as he writhes around on the floor. “I’d uh, I’d offer for you to take Jester back with you, with an excellent recommendation, but I’m afraid that Kurt would be heart broken, I think he’s grown a little attached.” Blaine tries, with the hope of including Kurt in to the conversation.

 

“I heard.” Burt says simply and then takes a long drink, and then another, effectively ending the conversation. This may be harder than Blaine thinks it’s going to be, and he just doesn’t think he has the energy or the patience for it tonight. He wonders how long Burt is planning on staying for, the bag out in the hall isn’t that big, but then again the man doesn’t really look like he’s anything but a light traveller. What will Burt get up to when he and Kurt are working tomorrow, better yet why is he even here at all, especially if he’s not going to make an effort with his own son, in his son’s house.

 

Blaine peeks over his shoulder to see if Kurt looks like he’s going to make any movement or attempt to join in the conversation, only to find him hunched over the countertop, arms folded, chin ducked down, eyes locked on to the countertop. “So Burt,” he turns back around, “how’s work at the shop, busy?” Burt whistles lowly at something that’s just happened on the TV and turns to Blaine with a smile.

 

“Yeah, it’s going great kid, busy as always, but I’ve got a great team of guys working for me,” Blaine nods and smiles. “You like cars don’t you, Carole said that you did some work on an old engine when you were younger or something.”

 

“Oh um yeah, it was just a silly thing me and my dad did, I haven’t done anything like that since-”

 

“That’s cool, I remember I always loved having Kurt in the shop with me, was always a great help.” Blaine smiles and tenses slightly at the mention of Kurt’s name, it’s slightly awkward, like they’re talking about him as if he’s not there, when in actual fact, he is, he’s just pretending not to be. Burt has a slightly wistful smile on his lips as he leans back against the couch cushions and Jester hops up to lie down in the gap between him and Blaine. Blaine looks back over at Kurt to see if there’s any reaction yet. Nope, nothing. 

 

“Do you guys still wear the coveralls that Kurt designed, his mechanic range?”

 

“You bet kid, sure thing, wouldn’t wear anything else, we stock and sell the whole range still like its going out of fashion-pun intended.” Blaine laughs and Burt chuckles lightly with him. He absolutely just cannot see what has happened that is so bad between these two, Burt just doesn’t seem like the type to say anything mean or derogatory especially to his son. But then again Santana had said that Burt had tried to pull Kurt down from his pedestal a little bit and Kurt just hadn’t liked it, maybe’s it’s all been over dramatised more than what it needed to be. At this moment in time it seems very likely. 

 

He’s just about to stand up and go and heave Kurt from his stool to encourage him to socialise when he looks over to find him gone, the stool vacant, and only then does he hear distant footsteps, obviously carrying Kurt away out in to the hall and up the stairs. Blaine opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again and tries to say something, but just doesn’t know what. He turns back around to find Burt staring down into his bottle, his eyes far off and a small but sad smile on his lips.

 

“Um, I, uh-”

 

“Don’t worry about it kid, not your problem, honestly I’m surprised that he lasted this long.” Something crumbles in Blaine’s chest, at the sight and sound of Burt sounding so resigned, so sad. “I’m not stupid, I knew this would happen, but I knew if I tried to call first, he just wouldn’t listen, believe me, this is the best way to start... fixing things... I guess.” Blaine nods, eyes wide and round and clear, like liquid toffee. Burt sighs, sips from his bottle and rubs at his face. “I don’t know what you may or may not know about me, me and Kurt and our problems, but-” 

 

Blaine nervously rubs a sweaty palm over his pants and clings to his almost empty bottle desperately in his other hand, his fingers curling tightly, his knuckles almost fading white. He’s uncomfortable, this is, this has nothing to do with him and he does not want Burt to think that he knows more than he should, he cares yes, and will listen if he’s asked to listen, happily, but it’s important that he’s not seen as an unwanted or nosy party.

 

“Honestly Burt, you do not have to explain or justify anything to me, seriously, its fine, I honestly don’t know anything about you or what happened with Kurt, other than you have been nothing but a good father to him, a hell of a lot better than others and I think he knows that, I know that he knows that.” Burt offers a small sorrowful smile that squeezes at Blaine’s chest and nods, obviously placated with Blaine’s small piece. 

 

“Thank you Blaine I appreciate that.” Blaine shifts in his seat, and offers a small smile which he hopes to be reassuring.

 

“But if, if you don’t mind me asking,” He hedges, voice quiet and soft, “Why did you come here, you said to see me, and that’s nice of you sir, I’m um flattered, but honestly that just doesn’t make any sense, clearly Kurt doesn't think so either-” Burt laughs gruffly and rubs a hand over his balding head.

 

“You’re right it doesn’t, but I’m a Hummel, this is how we work, surely you’ve already figured that out about Kurt-” Blaine drops his chin slightly and smirks. Yes he knows all too well what lack of sense Kurt seems to make in his choices and decisions at times, though common sense is something that just seems so natural to him.

 

Burt sighs, "Falling out with Kurt like this, or whatever the hell happened with us is never something that I wanted or accounted for, never. That kid and I have been like two peas in a pod for many, many years, but something just happened, I just... lost him... somewhere, somehow. I’ve tried with him though, the best that I can, many times over the years-" 

 

Blaine nods, hanging on Burt’s every word, feeling like his heart is in his throat. "I can believe that Burt-"

 

"It's true, I did, but you'll know what he's like by now, how stubborn he is, so I guess I just resigned myself. I felt better knowing that Carole kept coming out here to check on him and generally just not leave him alone, as stubborn as he may be, Carole is worse, and thankfully so.” Blaine smirks a little at that, he does get that impression, she and Kurt seem like very well suited personalities.   
“Eventually I just backed off, figured that if he wanted to recon-ciliate with me then he would, but then weeks became months and months became years and then I got too distant, to caught up and pissed off at how ridiculous it had all became and how much it had escalated-" Burt cuts himself off with a swig from his bottle as Blaine watches quietly.

 

"Carole told me about you, told me how he is with you, how he's like the old Kurt, I love my boy in any way he comes, always will, but she said that he seems happier in himself with you around. Personally and honestly I wasn’t on board with the whole PA idea that Carole had at first, I thought it was dumb and just didn’t get it, but who was I to dare get involved huh? But now I can see how well it's all worked out and when I seen those videos and pictures up of the two of you from that fancy premier thing, I seen his smile, and the twinkle in those eyes and I seen my old Kurt, the son that I love, have never stopped loving and should never have given up on, and so here I am." Burt takes another long draw from his bottle just as his voice begins to falter.   
Blaine clears his throat, there's nothing but sincerity with this man, in every word and every look. There are questions, so many questions that Blaine wants to ask, but now is certainly not the right the time, if he’s learnt anything at all in the past year, it’s that things will get answered and explained when they’re ready to, all in good time.   
Blaine will do anything he can to try and help this man, not push or insist, just support, it seems almost imperative to him to try and reunite he and Kurt to the way they were, the way it always should be.

 

"Burt?" Burt looks at him with glass likes eyes, the resemblance to   
Kurt is somewhat uncanny.

 

"Would you, just, let me know if there's anything that I can ever do to help-" Burt stretches an arm out to wrap around Blaine's shoulders and clap lightly him on the back.

 

"Oh don’t worry you're helping just enough, whatever it is, you’ve been doing around here, just don’t stop kid, you hear me?"

 

Blaine nods, swallowing hard. "I care about your son an awful lot, I want you to know that, I love the work that we do together, but he-he means a great deal to me-"

 

"I know that, I can see it, he cares about you too you know, he may not show it in the best of ways-" Burt doesn’t look or seem uncomfortable in anyway, he speaks as though he’s stating facts.

 

"Yeah I know that, he's um told me-" Burt looks at him suddenly with a surprised expression washing over him, something a little like awe, and then a wide smile cracks over his face. He nods once, and Blaine doesn’t know what he’s actually nodding to or for, maybe some form of silent confirmation of something in his own head.

 

"I see-" Burt's eyes begin to wander away, seeking out over the expanse of the room, clearly looking for an escape route before this conversation get's any deeper than it needs to be. Blaine doesn’t know what’s come over him, he's never opened himself up like this to a stranger before, never mind, somebody who is the father of a man who he has never had feelings for like this before.

 

Burt's eyes seem to land on something over in the kitchen, they widen and he stands, nose in the air, like a hound dog following his instincts and his nose, he got a small mischievous smirk on his face, the one that’s almost identical to Kurt’s, but Kurt usually uses his for much more personal matters. “That’s uh, that’s not pizza I spy over there is it?" 

 

Blaine follows his movement with his eyes and smiles catching on to the same thing, he stands and follows Burt over to the counter where the large pizza box and a couple of foil containers had been left. "Sure is, come on I’ll get you a plate, you must be starved."

 

A short while later, they're sitting side by side with the cardboard box opened up in front of them on the counter top, sharing equal pieces of just slightly cold pizza and dipping crispy fried potato skins into a barbeque sauce with almost empty beer bottles and two new ones cooling in an ice bucket. Burt licks his fingers and then wipes them on the faded knees of his jeans whilst Blaine demurely uses a folded paper napkin.

 

"Don't worry kid," Burt says between bites, turns to him suddenly with a look on his face, bright and determined and most important of all kind. "I’m not here to disrupt the peace or anything, that's not what I came here to do. I wont outstay my welcome, as ice cold as it may already be, I guess I just thought that now was a good time to try again you know, to get through to him, and I think that you're my best shot at trying to do that." Blaine looks at him rather perplexed, an eyebrow raised whilst he washes down a mouthful with a swig of beer, the taste feeling a little too bitter on his tongue. He’s wearing the ‘me?’ expression very well, and Burt shrugs and smiles at him. 

 

"You ever heard of the saying 'you gotta be cruel to be kind?' "Blaine nods, eyes widening slowly, understanding flooding his face. “Well let’s just say that it’s time to dust off some old parenting methods.” Blaine doesn’t know what else to say to that, how to answer or how to offer any form of advice, so he doesn’t. He can’t argue, not with the man about his son, Burt deserves the opportunity to try, and Kurt deserves the opportunity to warm to him once more and to listen, Blaine as always holds hope. 

 

They continue their food, talking about sports and cars and most other generic, easy stuff to discuss and when Blaine has polished off the last of the pizza crusts and disposed of the empty cartons and boxes, and Burt has finished his last swallow of beer, Blaine leads him upstairs to the guest room, which has been already cleaned and the bed made from when Carole had stayed with them at Christmas. Blaine stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets as Burt drops his bag on to the bed and turns to him.

 

“Um Burt,” It’s probably not his place to say anything, but none of this is what you would call at all typically conventional. Burt has blatantly came here with the hope and the idea of using Blaine to propel some form of an improvement in the broken relationship with his son, therefore he doesn’t think that Burt will mind so much or argue if he say’s his money’s worth. 

 

“I uh, I don’t know much about your family, your past, but I know that you, you all, suffered a great loss, and that it sadly has to do a little with the way that Kurt is these days. People cope and deal with such things in their own mysterious ways.” Burt doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move much, just stands watching Blaine, his face passive with a deep unwavering gaze and grey eyebrows drawn. 

 

“I um, I guess I just want to say, don’t beat yourself up too much about it, everybody has reasons for doing what they do, or say what they say. Everything means something to somebody, um Kurt actually told me that once, can’t get it out of my head since-” Burt’s eyes crinkle at the corners, they clear and glisten, like they’re warming somehow, and there’s a shadow of a dimple appearing on his cheek, something else which entirely too Kurt.

 

“He did? He said that?” Blaine smiles a little and nods, arms folding in front of his chest as he leans against the door jamb.

 

“I uh, you know, that was me, I said that to him once, he must have remembered-” Blaine smiles.

 

“That makes a lot of sense, he looks up to you, you’ve never stopped being his dad you know, he made his choices, but you have always still been there, just from a far.” 

 

Blaine has a slight sudden moment when he wonders if Kurt can hear them, if Kurt has heard anything that they’ve mentioned about him at all tonight, his chest begins to freeze like a block of ice before he blows out a breath and shakes out his thoughts. His stomach unknotting with ease, determined and sure, if Kurt has been listening than tough, good, he needs to hear these things, needs to know how much everyone still cares for him, plus he’d had every opportunity to intervene and say his piece too. 

 

Burt fidgets with the handle of his carry case on the bed, and perches on the edge of the mattress next to it with a sigh and then a grin, almost in wonder. “I like you kid, I like you a lot, and I can see why he does too, you’re definitely the type of person he needs around, if only he could have had you back…then.” Blaine blushes, raises a hand to the back of his burning neck and looks down at the floor. “Thank you, you know for-just thank you, and like I said don’t worry I’ll be out of your hair soon. Just give me a day or so to get the ball rolling. Good night.”

 

Blaine smiles and nods, his arms unwinding as he reaches out for the metal door knob. “Take your time, don’t sweat it,” He means it, “Goodnight Mr Hummel, it’s been great to finally meet you.” And he means that too. 

 

*

Blaine closes the door and quietly backs out into the hallway. He suddenly feels dog tired, can feel his hair springing free from its minimum product hold, his clothes are rumpled and creased and there are probably light patches of sweat on his shirt under his arms from wearing them all day, working, walking around, canoodling a little with Kurt and then having to deal with their surprise guest. 

 

Before his feet can carry him to the direction of his own bedroom, he swivels his head down the hall, eyes searching hopefully, ears pricked and trained to listen out for any sounds, any signs of life from where he knows Kurt’s bedroom to be. He’s never been in Kurt’s bedroom yet, he can’t imagine what it’s like other than, neat and clean and probably understated, beautifully simple, much like Kurt. Some people see their bedroom as like a kind of doorway to their heart, the step between one thing to personal and private. He believes Kurt to be one of those people and he won’t lie in saying that his own heart thumps with promise at the day he is invited into Kurt’s bed. 

 

For a millisecond, Blaine thinks about going to the mysterious room, quietly knocking on Kurt’s door just to check on him, to make sure that he’s ok and not made some escape route out of the bedroom window and down the fire escape like some lame movie. Honestly he just misses Kurt, he yearns to hear him and talk to him and just touch him, to hold him and be held by him in return. Even with Kurt’s father here, he refuses to be placed in the middle and forced into one corner or the other, he will remain resolute and resilient, he’s Switzerland, and will offer Kurt support just as much as he will Burt.

 

The downside is he’ll have to back off and tamper down his other urges until they’re alone in their home once again. Burt never made any comment or opinion in anyway about Blaine and Kurt’s personal relationship, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have one or had subtly applied or implied it. He’s married to Carole for goodness sake, she’s openly told him about Blaine, gave her opinions and it would be a downright miracle if she’d left out any of the parts about when she’d caught them eying other each other, and he’s pretty damn sure that Carole had left the mistletoe, not Kurt. 

 

Maybe they can manage some sort of sneaking around in some way, maybe they’ll get time during the day if Burt heads out into the city for a little while. Blaine’s mind whirls with thoughts and possibilities as he finally but slowly takes off down the hall, shaking his head and tiredly retiring to his own room for the night. 

 

* 

 

By the time Blaine gets in to his dark, empty silent room save for Jester who is surprisingly sleeping heavily in his own bed tonight for a change, quickly showers, brushes and flosses and crawls into bed after deciding to forgo any clothes at all, it’s after eleven. He buries himself into his pillows, arms folded behind his head as his body relaxes into a lazy state and he listens to the quiet muffles of Jester’s quiet squeaky snoring from his kitty bed down on the floor. His eyes drift closed, lashes fluttering as his bare chest rises and falls with deep steady, even breaths, willing himself to calm, his mind emptying of mindless thoughts and worries. 

 

He’s tired, so overly tired that he can’t sleep because of it. He’s confused, his once gone head ache is threatening to resurface, he feels like he’s on an episode of some kind of soap opera, when did his life come to this. His life which seemed to be pretty consistent with no cross roads, how did it get to here, to now? But still despite himself, he smiles, actually he giggles lightly, a deep grumble in his chest crawling up his throat. He actually wouldn’t have it any other way. 

 

He rolls on to his side and slides a hand down his chest, his skin still shower soft and moist and warm, until his palm connects with his cock and his fingers curl and tighten teasingly around himself until he’s fully erect and panting. Sleep seems to be a long way off yet so this will have to be the next best thing, if only it wasn’t his hand wrapped around him. Memories, mental images and pure imagination will have to suffice tonight. 

 

He’s groaning quietly, thrusting up lazily into his tight dry fist between the mattress and the soft sheets when his bedroom door creaks open quickly and shuts again immediately. “Oh good, you’ve already started.”

 

Kurt’s voice is whisper soft and quiet, yet high and breathy. Blaine has barely rolled on to his back, hand stopped mid-action but still wrapped around himself, as Kurt climbs on to the bed and dips under the covers. He resurfaces, straddling Blaine’s legs and shucking out of his own sleep pants whilst he fumbles to pull his shirt off, Blaine still a little shocked and surprised hurries to help him, abandoning his cock which is now pulsing and straining with even more excitement, and leaning up and in, kissing at any bare stretch of Kurt’s perfect skin that he can. As Blaine’s eyes refocus in the darkness of the room, they land on Kurt’s pale strong chest, his bulging muscles, rose-tinted cheeks and unruly sweet smelling hair. Like heaven on earth. 

 

“Kurt, oh god Kurt, missed this, missed you-” Kurt licks his palm and engulfs Blaine’s cock with it as his other hand threads gently through Blaine’s still-drying curls. Blaine works up and down his neck with his tongue and his teeth, like it’s his job, like he needs oxygen and Kurt’s throat is the main source. 

 

“Ssshh, quiet.” 

 

Blaine kisses his Adams apple and looks up at him through hooded eyes and matted lashes, voice, hoarse and rough and as quiet as he can keep it. “Are you mad at me?” And they both know that he’s not referring to the fact that he was caught with his cock in his hand.

 

Kurt gently pushes at Blaine’s shoulders so that he’s lying back down completely and furiously starts working his fist over his hard, leaking erection, pre-come smearing everywhere. He uses his other hand to gently cup Blaine’s balls, a finger teasing downwards occasionally, he bites his lips, eyes blown, chest heaving. “Do I look like I’m mad?” He squeezes in a particularly delicious way and Blaine almost convulses off of the mattress. “God, I need you Blaine, need you so much.” 

 

He’s like a man possessed, so utterly taken in the moment and Blaine is completely at a loss to stop him, his throat tightens, words drying up as he focuses on breathing. Kurt kisses his lips, a soft gentle press and then his jaw, his neck and then collarbone. His teeth and tongue tease each of his nipples and then he trails lower still, his hand continuing to pull and twist over Blaine’s cock, thumb gliding over his swollen sensitive head. When Kurt’s kisses finally lower and reach where his hand is wrapped around Blaine’s cock, he unravels his fingers and Blaine thinks that he’s going to finish him off with his mouth. His cock pulses at the thought and Blaine is definitely excited with the idea, he’s about two minutes away from coming, he can’t even try to hold it.

 

But then Kurt shuffles backward along his thighs, drops his body into the space on the mattress between Blaine’s legs and uses his hands to bend his knees up and spread them apart, his head dropping lower as he goes. Blaine only has a moment to realize where this is going until its there. “Wanted this Blaine, needed you.” 

 

Kurt’s tongue is lapping at him like it’s nobody’s business without preamble, both soft and rough strokes over and over his puckering hole. Blaine can’t control the groan that curls up his throat, as quiet as he is trying to be, cut off by a bite of his lips and his fingers digging into Kurt’s hair as his hips jolt upwards. 

 

“Oh fuck, fuucckk, Kurt, Jesus-”

 

Kurt pulls off and moves up, kissing his way over Blaine’s hipbone. He nips at it lightly, a warning. “I said quiet.” 

 

And then he’s back, back to lapping and curling his tongue, licking into Blaine with short determined thrusts, panting and breathing heavily as he goes, his hands pinned firmly to Blaine’s waist. It’s hard and fast and fucking exquisite and sadly it’s over before Blaine even has time to think about it, he’s coming with his cock untouched, coming hard in warm white ropes up and over his chest. He’s barely aware of Kurt moving a hand up to his mouth to cover his lips and muffle his broken pleasure-wracked sobs, too far gone to form words.

 

His vision blurs and then refocuses whilst his breath wheezes in and out of him, he kisses Kurt’s palm once and then twice, and when Kurt removes it and slumps against Blaine’s chest, Blaine captures his face with his hands and kisses him with abandon. They kiss and kiss, wet and slick whilst Kurt moves his hips up and down, writhing, rutting and rubbing against Blaine’s sweat sticky thigh with stifled huffs and moans. He’s so hard, so ready, feels so good against him, he comes moments later, not even allowing Blaine the chance to offer any help, he comes with his face pressed into Blaine’s neck, crying out soundlessly as the thick substance spreads between their bodies. 

 

Blaine kisses Kurt’s temple, smiling into his sweaty hair, as Kurt comes to, lazily lifting his head, bleary eyed and wearily smiling back. “Kurt that was-”

 

“I know-”

 

“Your dad-”

 

“I know-”Blaine can’t even bring himself to care that much, they weren’t that loud at all, the bedrooms are all vastly spaced apart and Blaine’s bed isn’t even situated against that wall anyway. God how did they get from shy and demure and pussy-footing around each other to indulging in that, with Kurt’s estranged father sleeping down the hall.

 

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders tightly, resting his chin on his head and just holds him, holds him like he’s wanted to, like he’s needed to.   
“Are you ok?” 

 

He feels Kurt nod gently against him and decides not to push it any further, Kurt will talk to him when he wants to talk to talk to him, he always does. Then again, not a lot has to be spoken between them to be communicated.

 

Blaine’s not sure how much time has passed but some time a short while later when their bodies are calm and drying and sticky, he feels the edges of sleep begin to wash over him and pull him under. Kurt presses a lazy line of soft chaste kisses to his shoulder and then sits up. 

 

“Thank you,” he whispers into the quiet darkness, hushed against Blaine’s skin. “Thank you, for just being you and for being here.” And then he’s gone, quietly padding out of the room, with a soft click of the door opening and reclosing.

 

At any other time Blaine would feel the emptiness and sadness that fills his chest, that he usually feels whenever Kurt leaves his bed, but tonight his grin sits proudly upon his face, chest thumping with pride and excitement and adrenaline and something strangely close to contentment. Kurt needs Blaine, he needs him raw and open and unforgiving, and Blaine will let him have him, any part and every inch, in way he wants, at any time.   
Blaine lets his body, heavy and deliciously sated relax into a deep night’s sleep.

 

*

 

The next morning, early enough for his head and eyes to still feel hazy and heavy but late enough for the sun to spread through the windows and light the rooms with delightful bright warmth, Blaine enters the kitchen to make his and Kurt’s usual coffee when he stops short.

 

The coffee’s already made, freshly filtered and brewed, steaming up a large glass jug with mugs waiting patiently along side of it, the air smells rich of toasted bread, grilled meats and poached eggs and the TV is already switched on to some sports news channel. 

 

“Morning,” Burt is kneeling down over by the breakfast bar on the tiled floor, a piece of sausage between his fingers and Jester licking keenly at the tips, his ears folding in pleasure. Blaine steps forward with an incredulous smirk and snaps his fingers, causing Jester to jump, snatch the last bite out of Burt’s hand and run away looking more than guilty. Burt pulls himself to his feet, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry kid, he on a strict diet or something?”

 

Blaine chuckles, shaking his head as he pours some coffee evenly into the waiting mugs, “Nah, but he is getting fat I guess, I do try and train him but whether he listens depends on his mood, and you ought to be careful, anyone would think you had a soft spot for him.” Burt smiles and points to himself, feigning a look of shock. 

 

Blaine looks around at the serving trays, stomach already rumbling appreciatively. “Wow, this all looks great Burt, is it for us, thank you so much.” 

 

Burt shrugs and waves a hand in the air, “The least I could do.” 

 

“There’s far too much cholesterol in this kitchen for a Thursday morning.” Blaine turns to face the kitchen doorway, sipping from his mug neatly as Kurt enters swiftly, heading straight towards to the spare coffee cup that Blaine’s holding, eyes trained on Blaine’s hand. Blaine keeps quiet, keeps sipping as Kurt takes the mug from him with a nod of thanks, and a tell tale twinkle in his eye. 

 

Burt says nothing, doesn’t even look at Kurt, just picks up his plate of eggs and bacon and on his way over to the couch he takes an apple from the nearby fruit bowl on the countertop with a cocky sideways glance and flops himself down, turning up the volume using the TV remote and taking an almighty bite.

 

Blaine looks on somewhat astonished, so Burt is obviously following through on his plans then. He watches as Kurt rolls his eyes in his father’s general direction, before stalking off into the main hall and towards the office, barely keeping a tight enough grip on is coffee mug.

 

What’s surprising Blaine the most is the fact that there’s no arguing, no yelling, no bitter, hurtful words or slicing tones, just silence. Complete ignorance with a hint of sarcasm, it’s very odd and mind boggling and Blaine thinks that he’s really got his work cut out with this one. He hears the office door slam closed out in the hallway, Kurt is obviously not waiting for Blaine to join him anytime soon and startles as Burt laughs loudly at something a commentator is saying on the screen. 

 

Kurt can strop all he likes, Blaine still has ten minutes before working hours starts and since their morning make out is most likely out of the equation, Blaine is going to eat his cooked breakfast that Burt has kindly made for him, and he’s going to damn well enjoy it. 

 

He’s just finishing off his breakfast sandwich, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin when his work phone buzzes in his pocket, he stands to load his dishes into the dishwasher and take a sip of orange juice as he thumbs at the screen.

 

Kurt P  
07.59  
Do not make me compete with my father for your attention Mr Anderson…

 

Blaine pockets his phone, shaking his head and smirking lightly as he leaves the kitchen.


	19. Chapter 19

Although no business meetings or anything of the like had been scheduled with any outside parties for the day, Blaine is not surprised when Kurt is hurriedly ushering him out of the condo with him around mid-day, mumbling something about an impromptu lunch date with a client, which sounds all to made-up and surely something that would have ran by Blaine first or also. 

 

Kurt had been noticeably flustered and tense all morning starting off with skipping breakfast, not even taking Blaine up on the offer of running out to grab him some Greek yoghurt or an oat and raisin bar he likes so much. He’d barely drank his coffee, leaving it to go cold whilst barking demands into his cell phone and punching in keys of the keyboard of his computer or his tablet keypad. 

 

Blaine had felt on edge just watching him, just by being in his presence, he feels heartily sorry for him, he does, he cant imagine what’s running through his head, how he must be feeling, about his dad just turning up out of the blue and wanting to rekindle something long lost. But he also can’t blame Burt, and he can’t say that he’s not going step back and let Kurt push him away again. 

 

But today Kurt doesn’t need pushing or persuading, he doesn’t need talking to or having questions and accusations aimed and fired at him, he just needs comfort, something that Blaine knows he can give him, something that Blaine knows he was made to do, be there for Kurt. 

 

Kurt had not said or done anything harsh or uncalled for directly towards Blaine at all that morning, just tentatively tiptoed his way around in him in the small confines of their joint offices, giving the occasional glance whilst talking to him mechanically, in automatic work mode and completely brushing off any attempt from Blaine to try and break his icy wall he’d built that morning. 

 

Burt on the other hand had spent the morning rather relaxed and happily, loudly watching every sports game available, completely taking over the living room and kitchen, and making pointless trips back and forth up to the guest room, whilst meandering aimlessly outside of the office door when ever he had the chance to do so. Something that certainly had not been missed by Kurt, who had never left the office all morning, not once, and had barely allowed Blaine the permission to leave to take a thirty second bathroom break.

 

Burt obviously had no intention of exploring the city, or making more use of his time here as Blaine had eagerly hoped for, no he was definitely making good on his promise of starting to re-connect with his son, which in this instance, meant annoying the ever loving hell out of him. Blaine still held on to his hope and faith, that Burt had only the right and kindest of intentions when it came to Kurt and making things better, so he kept his lips closed and his smile bright. 

 

Though he can’t say that he wasn’t a little bit pleased and relieved when Kurt had finally cracked, standing from his desk abruptly and announcing that they were going out for lunch.  
And so off they went, Blaine barely having the chance to relay to Burt that they had a lunch meeting to attend before he was running to catch up with Kurt who had steamed his way over to the elevator and down and out of the building. 

 

Blaine is not surprised when they get to the restaurant, their favourite family ran small steak house in a quiet district of the city, to find that the client they are supposed to be meeting in a wildly important last minute get together is no other than their very own Sam Evans. Sam who had just dropped them off at the entrance, drove around the block to find a parking space and then came back in to find them sitting at a corner booth waiting for him, looking both bored and like he just does not know what to do with himself. And then, to top it all off just as they’re ordering their range of appetizers, and pointedly ignoring each other, only making relative small talk, Santana flawlessly breezes her way in, fingering through her long wavy hair and still dabbing on some lipstick.

 

“What the hell is this Hummel?” She says frantically, “What’s the hurry? What did I miss, who died?” Sam doesn’t even look up from perusing the menu, he obviously has dealt with one of these over-dramatised fiascos’s more times than necessary before, either that or he’s starved and taking advantage of Kurt’s treat. 

 

Santana slides into the booth on Kurt’s right hand side already reaching for the wine glass that the waiter has just barely placed in front of Kurt, and gesturing at him to get his attention to bring over the whole bottle and leave it there. She gives Blaine her popular ‘what the hell’ look, a look that is not new for Blaine, who is watching from the other side of Kurt, looking just as equally frazzled. 

 

It’s definitely all a little bit odd, that’s for sure, the four of them rarely hang out like this, save for special one off occasions, definitely not midweek, during daylight working hours, but Kurt has obviously arranged this for a reason, he needs this, needs his friends, and as stiff, and flippant and plain difficult as Kurt can be at times, they would do anything for him, Blaine definitely, wholly and undoubtedly. 

 

Kurt snatches the glass out of Santana’s grasp, takes two large mouthfuls and then hands it to her, swallowing with his eyes squeezed shut, as the dry bitter taste seeps down his throat, tickling his taste buds and warming him inside out.   
“It’s my dad, my freaking dad is here, in my freaking condo, trying to play nice and make friends with my- my, with Blaine.” 

 

Sam coughs a little bit, maybe his soda was too fizzy and Santana’s eyes widen momentarily, as do Blaine’s, who goes almost stiff beside Kurt. Kurt continues to rant, unfocused on his little whatever that was, maybe it was nothing.   
“God, what is happening, why is he here? Is it you two, have either of you spoken to him?” Kurt is looking pointedly between Sam and Santana, his jaw squared, brows knitted and eyes piercing. 

 

Sam’s head snaps up then, looking like he’s been slapped, eye brow quirked and a rather hilarious bemused expression on his face, before he starts shaking his head rapidly back and forth. 

 

Santana just scoffs, shrugging and flicking her hair back over her shoulder, smirking whilst she sips, leaving bright pink lip smudges along the thin rim of the glass.   
“What? Are you kidding? No of course we haven’t, why would he be here? What’s he doing?” 

 

“Well I don’t freaking know do I, that’s why I’m asking you, currently he’s treating my house like a hotel and cooking artery clogging food in my kitchen, oh my god, I’m not ready for this, I can’t do this with him right now, I just can’t-” Kurt’s voice rises with agitation, his hands trembling. Thankfully the small restaurant is quiet around them and there is no staff currently milling around, the waiter had returned to deposit their wine bottle and had left hastily, nobody close enough to watch Kurt’s little breakdown. Still Blaine can’t take it, can’t take seeing him this way, so far from cool and calm, so distressed. 

 

“Hey stop this, come on, calm down-” Blaine reaches out mindlessly and grabs Kurt’s hand over the dark table cloth in his own, he strokes a thumb reassuringly over the back of Kurt’s hand, effectively trying to soothe him. His eyes are pinned on Kurt’s, willing his own calm and comfortable demeanour to pour into Kurt through just their unwavering eye contact, and the gentle touch of their hands.

 

Kurt freezes, his flailing cut off abruptly, lips slack and eyes wide and bright, clear and careful. The glass that Santana is holding is left pressed to her open wide grinning mouth, slightly on a slant, wine threatening to over spill, and Sam clearly doesn’t know where to look, so he just doesn’t somehow. 

 

It’s not an overly affectionate gesture, but it’s one that the two have never performed in public before, not even in front of Sam and Santana, their closest friends, who have had their suspicions and voiced their very positive thoughts on the personal subject but never seen anything as ‘confirmed, maybe?’ as this before.   
The restaurant is just a small place with booths spread out evenly and it’s quiet today, not a lot of people out to lunch, but Blaine has never touched him like this before, nor looked at him like he’s watching the most beautiful sunset or spoke to him so softly, not in public. It’s different and new, it’s terrifying and strange and slightly exhilarating. 

 

Realizing what he’s just done, Blaine quickly pulls back, dropping his hand under the table and reaching for his water glass with his other as his cheeks flame. Kurt’s eyes never leave his, he only closes his mouth and swallows as Blaine takes a drink from his glass, as if imitating him. Sam carefully lifts up his menu to face and starts reading once more, and Santana starts slowly sipping from her glass, her dark eyes smiling as they switch between both pairs, bright glass like ocean pools to toffee smudged emeralds, still boring in to each others. 

 

Even in the sudden tense awkward silence, Kurt does in fact visibly relax, his shoulders sag as he exhales a soft breath through loose lips and reaches out to pick up his own wine glass which Santana has just kindly poured for him. His eyes catch with Blaine’s once more and cling on to each other’s over their glasses and there’s a momentary flash, a silent passing of words, a reverent thanks and the loveliest of looks. Santana winks when Blaine dares to glance at her a beat later, and then she picks up her menu and starts loudly naming things, going down the list and vetoing, narrowing her choices to the most expensive and exquisite sounding. 

 

The appetizers arrive, a range of sharing platters which they all tuck into appreciatively and when the waiter returns to take away their empties and dishes, they order some main courses, surprisingly enjoying their little soiree immensely. Sam enjoys a fillet steak with pepper sauce and onions and thick cut twice-fried fries, whilst Santana tries the chicken skewers and Kurt and Blaine decide to share, something that is not uncommon for them, a mixed grill barbequed skillet with vegetables and dipping sauces. Another bottle of wine on ice is ordered, along with refillable sodas and jugs of water, and the conversation ranges from the most random uncoordinated topics, easily, joyfully and happily. 

 

Blaine has to admit that it’s the most relaxed he’s felt in a while, surrounded by company where he can be himself, not having to worry about what he’s saying or doing, or how he’s acting, he’s just being himself, with people who get him, who like him and want him around. He loves this, he always wants this. It’s also quite possibly the happiest he’s seen Kurt for a while too, except for the times when it’s just the two of them behind closed doors and able to get up to anything that their bodies can withstand. 

 

Santana really does try to keep her side-eyeing and comments to a lower pitched, bare minimum. Blaine can see how hard she’s trying to keep from winding Kurt up the wrong way when he’s clearly trying to calm himself in an already fragile mood. Though when their deserts arrive towards the end of their lunch four-way date, despite protests of feeling too full, Kurt and Blaine innocently feed each other bites of their own dishes, declaring that it’s just too good and Santana can’t roll her eyes hard enough at how blatantly oblivious they are being. 

 

“Stop it Santana.” Kurt gently chides as he snaps his fingers at the nearby waiter so that they can pay and finish up. Blaine winces, watching Kurt slowly start to slide back into his anger-trapped, closed off alter ego, turning his nose up at the odd passing patron who shows a hint of recognition. Reality is slowly seeping back in and Kurt does not know how to deal with it, not right now. 

 

Sam drops his desert spoon down into his empty ice cream bowl with a happy sigh and looks at Kurt carefully. He hasn’t said much, only his little snippets of input to conversation and the odd joke and expression but that’s just Sam, an easy talker and a good listener, a considerate communicator. 

 

“Kurt, are you going to talk to us? Like are you going to tell us why you had us all come here, what’s really on your mind?” His voice is so gentle, so quiet and steady, even Santana looks at him, patiently waiting with no quip or remark and Blaine just smiles helpfully, nodding slightly with the hope that Kurt will answer.

 

Kurt sighs, and rubs at the back of his neck. “I guess, I just needed the distraction, so thank you guys for coming, for doing this.” He looks around all of them, like a child lost and confused, desperately clinging to some form of hope, hope that it’s enough. 

 

“Kurt,” Sam leans forward in the booth, his voice dropping, “You never have to thank us for plying us with free food,” His lips quirk and they all laugh, even Kurt with a slight flash of his teeth. “But honestly dude, and don’t take this the wrong way, but what you said earlier about your dad, he can never play nice, he just is nice, and you know it, and you know that you love him. And of course he’s gonna want to meet Blaine, because Blaine is awesome,” Blaine blushes and Santana smirks, “Nobody knows why he’s here really, just that he is, so be the good man that you are and go talk to him ok, hear him out, say what you need to, but don’t freak out about it, he can always just go away again, ok, there’s always that.” 

 

Sam closes his mouth after an over exaggerated exhale and nods to himself lightly, as if reiterating his own words with a silent gesture, before standing up to go in search of a bathroom and go and pull the car around to the front. Kurt just watches him, mouth slightly parted and smiling, looking up from his delicate slump down in the booth, eyes shining fondly.

 

The waiter arrives with the bill and both Blaine and Santana lean forward to reach for it but back off immediately with the warning glare that Kurt sends their way. Santana stands, brushing stray crumbs from her dress and artfully climbs out of the booth, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Kurt’s cheek and blowing a kiss to Blaine. 

 

“Ok I gotta get back to the studio, I’m recording some back up vocals for an acoustic cover album for somebody no more famous than I am,” She readjusts her purse with pouted lips and slides out a compact mirror, checking her make-up, “But believe me there is nothing that I could have said better than the idiot-genius himself hasn’t just said, you know me, you know my thoughts, and you know where I am if you need me. I wanna see big pops H before he leaves too.” And then she turns and leaves the table, striding away, all long legs and high heels and flowing hair. 

 

Kurt slides a credit card onto the little silver tray and nods as the waiter takes it away to verify and charge it. Blaine watches him carefully, lips twitching. Kurt turns in the seat to face him, their legs colliding, unusually close for a public establishment, but Kurt strangely doesn’t seem to mind, his thoughts seemingly far off. “What? What do you want to say? Come on out with it, you may as well, everybody else has.” Blaine smiles at Kurt’s playful tone and shakes his head.

 

“Nothing.” Kurt pokes him in the shoulder and he pretends to fall backwards on the seat. “Ok so maybe there is one thing that I’d like to say,” Kurt looks at him, eyebrows and lips quirked in curious anticipation and slight humour. “Just, you know that you’ve got to at least hear him out right, your dad? Like Sam said. You can’t let him leave without talking to him-”

 

“He blanked me this morning Blaine in my own kitchen-”

 

“He’s trying Kurt, he’s here isn’t here? He’s trying in a way he knows how, and its working, I know it is because you’re all in a kerfuffle with yourself about it now-”

 

“Kerfuffle?” 

 

“Kurt, seriously, come on-”

 

“Ok,” Kurt holds his hands out, an obvious gesture of resignation, then fusses with the table cloth. “Ok, yes, I know.” Blaine nods at him, satisfied with that and no need to continue the matter further. At least he knows that he’s not the only one trying to reconnect the two painfully awkward Hummel men, and he’s glad of it. 

 

The waiter returns the card and they both stand, collecting their suit jackets, Kurt slips the small plastic card back into his wallet in his pants pocket and the two of them leave the table and head towards the main glass doors. Kurt holds the door open for him, gentlemanly so and Blaine preens inside before mentally kicking himself. Kurt waits for Blaine to pass gratefully and then tugs at his sleeve, pulling him up next to some decorative bushes and potted plants whilst they wait for Sam to arrive out on the front street.

 

“Hey um, I want to say thank you, but I honestly don’t know how many times I can actually say thank you to you without you becoming tired of hearing it.” 

 

Blaine shivers a little, the late afternoon breeze is picking up a little bit, and although the weather is warm and bright, his skin prickles through the thin material of his shirt. Kurt’s standing just a breath away from him, standing sheltered within the outdoor patio of the restaurant walls, eyes overbearingly powerful and bright, washed with some unnamed raw emotion.

 

“I’ll never tire of hearing you Kurt, I’ll never tire of anything with you.” Kurt smiles, small and shy and glances away back out at the front street. Blaine ducks to catch his gaze again, “You know that you don’t ever have to thank me, ever, but if you do feel like you must,” His grin breaks out, toothy and mischievous, eyes glinting in the sunlight, “then you could always thank me in other ways.” Kurt’s eyes shimmer and flutter, cheeks flushing with colour and Blaine uses all of his restraint not to reach out and brush a thumb over his defined cheek bones and the exquisite arch of his brow bone.

 

A car horn honks out loud and abruptly, causing both men to pull apart with a start and glance over out to the street to find the Lexus pulled up to the curb, and Sam gesturing wildly to them through the open window. 

 

Once they’re both safely strapped in to the back cab of the car behind darkened windows, the privacy screen up between themselves and the front cab, and Sam has manoeuvred out onto the busy roads, Kurt slides closer to Blaine, wordlessly. 

 

He settles himself, thigh to thigh, and slowly walks his fingers, achingly slow from Blaine’s knee, up to the lower part of his strong thigh, smirking at the slight quiver he can feel under his finger tips.   
He leans in, his lips just brushing a small unruly wave of dark hair that has broken formation and teasing the top outer shell of Blaine’s ear, his voice hushed, breath warm and sweet, like wine and chocolate, enticing and addictive.

 

“Just so you know, I intend on thanking you in everyway possible, always.” 

 

*

 

They arrive back at the condo a short while later, much to Kurt’s dismay and refusal of his excuses to go anywhere but, with a pact made between them, a pact that Blaine had made Kurt promise to stick to before they left the car, and if that entailed a much too ridiculous and immature tickle fight causing Kurt to wail giggles of slight hysteria and submission, well then at least the car is blacked out and sound proof. 

 

Blaine had quickly ducked into the living room to tell Burt they were back and would be in the office for a little while, while Kurt immediately made his way from the elevator to the office with minus hesitation. It’s late afternoon and there isn’t a great deal of work left to be done for the day, it’s Thursday, nearing the end of the working week, therefore the load usually lightens gradually bit by bit during the down-cline to the weekend. 

 

Both Kurt and Blaine have been in the office for a short while now, sitting in comfortable peace and quiet, Blaine occasionally humming lightly as he goes to and from both offices and Kurt trying not to grin at how cute he is. They tidy up some loose ends that were left before they went out for lunch and send off a few pending emails and go over some requests and proposals.

 

There’s a light knock on the office door and Blaine looks up at the sound, head tilted curiously as Kurt tries to pretend that he didn’t hear it. The sounds comes again, harder and louder and before Blaine can find something to flick over the desk at Kurt, the door carefully cracks open and Burt’s head appears between the door and the jamb, his face a little sheepish.

 

“This office is confidential and private.” Kurt exclaims quietly but clear and immediately, not even bothering to look away from his screen. Burt makes a disgruntled noise and before he can reply or disappear, Blaine is leaping out of his chair with a shake of his head and opening the door fully to expose Burt standing in the doorway with two cups of coffee. 

 

“I uh I just thought that you two could use some-” He nods down to his hands, a little unsurely, “I uh, I’ll just leave these here-” Burt fumbles, stepping forward quickly, heavy footed and setting the mugs down on the desk before hastily stumbling away and out of the room, trying not to look up from the floor. 

 

Blaine bites his lip and sighs, pinning his hands against his hips in what he hopes to be an authoritative less than pleased stance, but probably looks more adorable than anything, with his fitted electric blue Capri pants and matching bowtie. Kurt doesn’t look at him but smirks slightly, as if he can see him anyway. Blaine taps a foot.

 

“Kurt you promised.” 

 

Kurt merely shrugs and continues typing away. “I’m working, I’m busy.”

 

Blaine sighs harder, harder than what would be deemed as normal, and then slumps back down into his chair at the desk, pulling both cups of coffee towards him and out of Kurt’s reach.

 

“Too busy for this then.” He says a little too triumphantly mixed with petulance. He thoroughly enjoys the sharp tut which he is greeted with in return from across the desk.

 

*

 

“Could you stir the-oh you are, thanks-”

 

“No problem, hey don’t forget to dice that up finely, I don’t like-”

 

“Big chunks I know…have you already fed Jes tonight?” 

 

“Yeah, before you came down, I just used the leftovers from-”

 

“Oh ok yeah, great, I was gonna do that too-” Kurt is interrupted by a gruff chuckle and faint foot steps as Burt saunters in to the kitchen, watching them with his arms folded across his chest. 

 

“Carole sure was right, you two really are quite the pair.” Kurt doesn’t look up from the chopping board where he’s currently clinging to an onion with much too force and a knife suspended in his other hand which is too sharp for somebody as hot headed as he is right now. Blaine stops stirring the sauce in the pot on the stove momentarily as he looks up, but before he or Kurt can comment, Burt is already shrugging and walking away towards the bar, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. 

 

Blaine lifts the spoon out of the thick rich red sauce, and patters it over the textured boiling surface a little, this is normally the part where Kurt would come over and test it, or Blaine would test it himself and Kurt would steal a taste from his lips and his tongue, but tonight that doesn’t really seem appropriate. Kurt and Blaine have grown so incredibly and wonderfully domestic for two people who are supposedly not ‘domestic’ that Blaine has to premeditate what he can and cannot do with Kurt, depending on mood and circumstance.

 

Sometimes on a Thursday night Santana is here and if she’s not forcing them to get take out food or drink away their worries she’d be trying to take testers for herself and force herself between the two of them, both hilariously and annoyingly so. They’re still very ‘not together’ in front of Santana when she’s around in the condo, even though she knows damn well what’s going on between them, they’re still yet to fully admit to her and let her actually see what she’s been right about all along.   
All in good time, Blaine supposes, he and Kurt are still yet to figure things out before Santana can start whooping and claim staking. 

 

“Um Burt, we’re making pasta bolognaise for dinner, hope you’re hungry, there’s always plenty.” Blaine smiles as Burt grins and nods back to him as he starts checking out the rows of glass bottles which line the length of the bar stand marble countertop. He just hears Kurt quietly mutter something behind him as Burt decides on an old bottle of rum and unscrews the cap to take a sniff. 

 

“Oh that’s a good one Burt, I’d personally recommend it.” Burt holds up the bottle and grins, reaching under the counter for some tumblers. “I have mine two fingers liquor and two fingers coke and Kurt-”

 

“Has his on the rocks, yeah I know.” Burt says quietly, matter of fact, nodding stiffly as he goes about fixing everybody a drink. Kurt appears by Blaine’s side, and slides the freshly diced vegetables into the pot. Burt is heavily engaged in his task, bending at the waist to get the correct measurements and mixers.

 

Blaine curls two fingers of his free hand around Kurt’s wrist and squeezes, securely, reassuringly. Kurt looks at him, a soft sigh escaping his lips, eyes bright and cloudy under the dim kitchen spot lights and chugs of fresh hot steam. Blaine points his wooden stirring spoon gently towards the freezer, careful not to drip and Kurt instantly knows what he’s indicating. Wordlessly, Kurt strides over to the freezer, flips open the box drawer and takes a bag of ice cubes out, in a swirl of ice-cold dry steam. 

 

Blaine stirs the new ingredients deeply into the pasta and sauce mix, eyes dancing and smiling, lips smirking as he watches Kurt take the ice to his father to add to the glasses. Burt startles and looks up at Kurt rather oddly, takes the small plastic bag out of his hand with a silent nod and starts plucking the cubes out into the three prepared glasses. 

 

Kurt is walking back to the kitchen, pointedly ignoring Blaine’s smug looking face when Burt sets the drinks along the top serving shelf of the bar and starts speaking, quietly, fondly. 

 

“I remember the year that I first gave Kurt a taste of this stuff, not long after his eighteenth birthday, Kurt was, is, a good kid, responsible, always was the dedicated driver, so one Saturday night we’re having dinner at home, just me and him and Carole and Finn-” Kurt suddenly scoffs over at the freezer where he’s putting the ice back, and turns around, face in his hands, bright eyes peeking out between his fingers. 

 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe that you’re still telling this story-” He doesn’t sound, annoyed or upset, he’s humoured with gentle fond exasperation. 

 

“It’s one of my favourites.” Burt grins, surprise and delight gently lacing his tone as he brings over everybody’s glass, takes a seat at the breakfast island, pulls up a third stool and watches Blaine stir and prod at the bubbling sauce happily. 

 

Kurt collects the plates and cutlery, sets out side dishes and condiments and slices up a baguette from the bread bin, as Burt continues to tell his story. Blaine giggles and gasps along and is just finishing serving up as Burt gets to the end of his tale, leaving Kurt blushing but smiling lightly also. 

 

They eat to the tones of quiet, pleasant conversation, mostly instigated by Blaine with superb use of open ended questions, and Blaine doesn’t miss the way that Burt’s voice softens when retelling a tale from the past, their younger years. Or the way Kurt’s eyes go that cloudy swirling shade, that they do whenever he’s feeling something all too deeply and trying to hide it. Blaine can see, he can feel the broken love and the longing between these men, he can sense the tension and the unspoken words waiting to pour out, but he can also sense that it is not wanted or intentional, this is something that was never supposed to happen between these two and could be forgiven and forgotten all about, if only they would let it. 

 

By the time their plates are empty with full, groaning bellies and the dishes are being cleaned away with every eager pair of free helpful hands, Kurt is tasked with his fair duty of preparing everyone their third round of drinks.  
Burt drops himself down onto one living room couch, cradling his rum and ginger beer carefully whilst Kurt and Blaine seat them selves on the other with their drinks, distancing themselves what they deem to be appropriate but obviously close enough to prompt a shadow of a smirk from Burt and a not so subtle twinkle in his pale eyes.

 

The atmosphere is calm but as the conversation starts to slide, Blaine takes a sip from his glass and asks, “So Burt, how long are you planning on staying?” 

 

This seems to take both Burt and Kurt surprise as they both funnily make the same expression, their glasses pausing before it reaches their mouths. “I uh, I don’t actually know, I never really thought about it, honestly, but maybe I’ll leave tomorrow night or-”

 

“You-you could stay for the weekend, if you wanted, you know, whatever.” Kurt’s voice is so small, so fragile like, muffled behind the thin patterned edge of his glass, eyes fixated on something across the room. 

 

Blaine feels his insides melt as Kurt settles back into the couch beside, the cushions dipping under the weight of both their bodies, making himself comfy or maybe trying to make himself seem small somehow.   
He thinks about what he wants to say, there could be repercussions for this, Kurt could really nail into him, but the rum feels warm in his chest and loose in his throat, his stomach full and head light, he doesn’t care. He turns to Kurt fractionally on the couch, careful not to rub his body alongside Kurt’s too much, because Burt is just over there.

 

“You know that we could-um tomorrow is just-” Kurt’s eyes widen a little, a beautiful shade of blue flecked with glassy green. “Well it’s just that, we don’t have a lot on tomorrow really, we could take your dad out around the city somewhere or-”

 

“O-oh I um, oh-” Burt starts throat clearing and fumbling, shifting on the couch, as Kurt straightens, ok so maybe Blaine shouldn’t let his alcohol influenced head take over control of his tongue, it’s not always a great idea, he should learn this by now. “Its ok guys, really, I don’t want to put either of you out, you’re both so busy and-”

 

“No.” It’s neither a demand nor a command, more of a simple, gentle statement, a matter of fact, and soft and almost breathless, like it’s taking Kurt all of his strength to speak such a small and simple yet weighted word. 

 

Blaine looks at him incredulously, has to turn and face him more to make sure that’s he’s not just hearing things, and Burt sounds like he’s almost choking on his drink.  
Kurt lowers his glass, and slowly manoeuvres his gaze to Blaine, soft and gentle, before over to Burt, steady and sure.   
“No, Blaine’s right, we’ll take tomorrow off, you can’t come to New York for the first time in years and not experience it to the fullest.” 

 

Burt’s cheeks pink a little and his soft light eyes, go round and liquid like, he swallows and takes a drink from his glass, eyes darting around the room.   
Blaine almost has to sit on his hands to keep from taking Kurt’s and entwining their fingers, hell he almost has to leave the room to keep himself from squealing and bouncing. Yet again he has found happiness in something he didn’t know that he would, didn’t know that he could, he has found shelter within a heart that beats differently to his own, and with that heart has accepted many others connected to it. 

 

“Ok, sure, sounds good kid, real good.”

 

“It sure the hell does.” All three men’s head turn to see Santana striding over from the open elevator, a wide grin on her face. “Let’s get this party started huh.” She laughs as Burt chuckles and stands, makes his way over and folds her into a warm hug. 

 

Kurt’s jaw drops a little, humour dancing in his eyes and an expression of hard hitting truth and reality flooding his face, cheeks flaming with warmth. Burt and Santana are still wrapped up in each other, sharing fond greetings and jokes, Burt trying to recite some badly learnt Spanish.   
Blaine taps Kurt on the knee lightly, nudges his shoulder and winks at him. Kurt just smiles, lightly shaking his head and leans in subtly as Burt ushers Santana over to the bar to start fixing a drink, his voice whisper soft and hushed.

 

“You best not tell your boss that you’re planning on playing hooky tomorrow.” Blaine smirks, eyes sparkling.

 

“Oh no?” He tips his glass towards Kurt, who clinks his own glass against his lightly and drains whatever he had left in the bottom, with a slick gasp.

 

“No. Unless, that is, he can join you?” Kurt’s eyes are shimmering dangerously, as if forgetting that his best friend and his dad are just over the other side of the room, no matter how loud they’re chattering and not paying them any attention.

 

Blaine lowers his voice, deep and dark, lifts his foot so that it gently grazes along aside Kurt’s ankle, deliciously teasing, before standing and taking Kurt’s empty glass from him.

 

“Oh he can do more than that, I promise.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thank you all again so much. We’re nearing the end of this deal little tale now. So here is part 1 of the ‘big boom wrap up’ as I like to call it ;) hope you enjoy.

Friday kicks off just as fabulously drastic as anybody could have guessed it would, after a spontaneous late night bottoms-up between a group of self-respecting adults. It’s mid morning when Blaine finally stirs and wakes blearily, the weather outside of his bedroom window is bright and warm, he can feel it and see it even with still mostly closed eyes and the block of the drawn drapes. He knows that he’s overslept for a week day morning and his bones and limb thrum and ache, internal body clock beating and pulsing at him to wake and rise, he’s hot and sweaty and highly frustrated in many ways. 

 

Memories from the night before jab into his brain in short intervals, the mostly polished off bottle of Rum, the collective laughing, the story telling, the singing, the smile on Kurt’s face even though he still was somewhat reserved, the way Burt stumbled up to his room moaning about being too old and how the kids are bad influences. He can’t help but smile a little into the quiet empty stillness of his bedroom, how fun and easy it had all turned out to be last night, how right it had all felt.

 

Blaine groans at the fluttering tell-tale feeling in his stomach and the pounding in his head as his eye lids crack open lazily, the mattress dips beside him, the covers scrunching and curling away and a warm heavy weight, twisting and leaning in towards him.

 

He freezes, skin tingling, body flooding with both warmth and ice, surely he and Kurt hadn’t-they didn’t, did they? He, they, weren’t that drunk, there was an equal amount of food on their stomachs, plus mixers to dilute the rum, between four of them, they were just happy more than anything, pleasantly tipsy. He would know if Kurt had ended up back in his bed, he would remember, he’d cherish the moment, and wouldn’t let it happen in such whimsical, rash circumstances. 

 

“Coffee. Prince valiant, get me coffee now.” His stomach dips and he isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. The familiar tone, rough and grumbled and politely impolite digging into the understanding part of his brain. Not the soft spoken yet deep voice, the teasing hush of warm breath and delicious lilting tones that he’s used to, forever pining for. 

 

He then realises that he’s still fully clothed-as in still wearing the casual slacks and shirt he was wearing for dinner last night-clothed. Santana lightly kicks his shin under the covers, her leg dropping heavily on to his, he can feel the shiny smooth feel of her wet-look leggings under the hem of his trousers where they ride up his calf. He hisses and rolls away from her, curling in on himself protectively, eyes clenched shut.

 

“What are you doing in my bed?”

 

“I don’t know,” Santana mumbles, barely coherent, and sounding like she could hardly give a damn. “Followed you two up here, thinking I’d catch some action, very disappointed when his highness ran into his own bedroom after a shockingly awful adorable shoulder nudge, can’t remember much else after that, only I needed a mattress and your bed was the closest-”

 

“Me and Kurt?”

 

She scoff, smacks her lips, she’s clearly got a popular case of the morning after dry throat.  
“Who else? I’ve got to hand it to you both, you’re good, you get all the points, acting like nothings going on between you, when you clearly want to rip each others clothes off, you deserve a freaking medal.” 

 

Blaine grumbles, unable to contain a smile and huff of laughter despite himself, until dread suddenly dawns and floods through him, his muscles and limbs stiffening. He partially rolls on to his back, his shoulder knocking with Santana’s who grumbles lightly.

 

“Oh god, we didn’t um, we weren’t uh inappropriate?” He hates to think that Kurt would be upset or uncomfortable today because of a silly unthought-of move on their part, not after he’s making such good progress recently.

 

Blaine feels Santana shake her head against the pillow beside him, moaning, unimpressed. “No I just said, very disappointed, you’re very well behaved, even when slightly inebriated.”

 

You see, even Blaine’s less sober self knows all too well how to be and how to behave, he knows Kurt, knows him without even having to think consciously, he’s just under his skin, in his thoughts, always. Something has to give soon, he can feel it.

 

Blaine laughs, a short burst of delighted laughter out of nowhere and Santana laughs with him, whether she’s knows what’s he’s actually laughing at or not, it’s more of a snicker, and then kicks him again lightly against the back of his knee. 

 

“Coffee. Now, please.” 

 

*

 

It’s safe to say that none of them are able to cook a breakfast or brunch which is deemed anything close to substantial. After everybody has rose from their slumbers, mumbling short greetings and fighting for priority at the coffee machine, they all make their way around the condo with matching head aches and dress for the day. Kurt pulls out a pair of slim cut jeans and a camisole for Santana which she had left in his closet a while back, for situations just like this. 

 

Sam picks them up and joins them for breakfast at a small coffee house, tucked away just off a quiet block near Broadway, which bakes the best muffins of any flavour you could possibly ask for. Blaine had texted Sam last night to invite him round for their impromptu evening, but Sam had texted back saying he was on a date at a movie theater, and would catch up with them and Burt the next day.

 

Most of the conversation during bottomless refills of coffee and fruit juice, and plates piled high of the sweetest smelling freshly baked carbs, is based around Sam’s surprise date. Who, where, what? That sort of typical interrogation and Blaine is actually kind of glad that he or Kurt are not center of attention or conversation. Just poor blushing Sam, forced into the spotlight, talking about the girl he innocently met at the gas station.

 

An hour or so later when everyone’s feeling a little more human, and after his friendly grilling, Sam is told that he can have the day off to do with as he pleases, he stands, polishing off the remains of his strawberry and banana smoothie and offers to take Santana home. They leave with warm goodbyes and hugs passed around, Burt whispering things into their ears whilst Kurt eyes them wearily, and then Kurt, Blaine and Burt are left alone, leaving the café and walking along Broadway. 

 

At first it’s a little quiet and a little awkward, obviously a lack of alcohol also means a lack of courage, but thankfully Blaine takes charge, stepping forward and leading them towards the popular shopping and tourist areas. Blaine tells Burt about a well known sports outlet where they head to and Burt buys some fishing gear, wandering around the store, gazing at everything with a look no less than amazement and joy. Kurt disappears for a short while and when Burt takes his new waders and bait tacks to the cash register, he is merely told that his purchases have been taken care of and isn’t given the chance to say otherwise, as Kurt and Blaine over in the corner bicker fondly over a hat Blaine that is interested in. 

 

They visit Tiffany’s where Burt buys Carole a lovely brooch, nothing too overstated and the same thing happens when he tries to hand his card over to the cashier. Blaine starts looking curiously at the new range of men’s watches and Burt finds himself distractedly chuckling as Kurt tries to take over his browsing with his own opinions, and then suddenly, somehow they all have shiny new watches. Kurt just shrugs, waving a hand dismissively, looking almost bored and sauntering out of the shop before anything more can be said. 

 

Kurt rolls his eyes whilst Burt stops at a hotdog stand in between stores, he smirks at Blaine’s puppy eyes and watering mouth tracking the over-sized dog with too much mustard and gherkins, and hands the vendor a fifty, telling them to get what they want and for the guy to keep the change. 

 

There isn’t a great deal of conversation, unless Blaine initiates it and it’s something generic and universal, obviously the pink elephant that has been following them around the whole day will stay ignored until they are back at the condo later, but still the day is nice, easy and simple, even if Kurt is using rather ‘flashy’ ways of communicating and part-taking in any interaction. 

 

They choose to go and see a matinee, a show filled with beautiful compositions, light comedy and not a lot of dancing, a combination that Burt seems to enjoy thoroughly, if the short deep chuckles coming from the other side of Blaine are anything to go by. Kurt sits on Blaine’s opposite side, he isn’t quite sure how he ended up in the middle, but doesn’t bother questioning it, he also doesn’t miss the contented expression on Kurt’s face, that slips through his stern mask now and then, when he’s too busy enjoying himself to think about keeping it in place. 

 

During the interval Burt visits the bathroom, following the crowds who are filtering out of the large grand room of the quaintly small old theater building, and Blaine volunteers to stand in line at the concessions stand to get some ice cream for Kurt and himself to share and some roasted nuts for Burt.

 

Whilst he’s waiting to be served he reaches out and picks up a small bag of chocolate coated candy from one of the side stands, knowing that Kurt will regret asking for some sooner or later. Kurt’s moods and habits, his cravings and wants, likes and dislikes are things that Blaine has become much too accustomed to, he’s pretty sure that he could take a Kurt Hummel test and pass with flying colours, that’s if none of the questions are about the old parts of Kurt’s life which Blaine is still yet to get to grips with, and will hopefully soon learn more about. 

 

His phone beeps in his pocket as he steps forward along with the shortening waiting line.

 

Carole H  
15.21  
I take it that because my husband hasn’t been sent back to me yet in pieces, then everything is…ok, at least for now? Carole x

 

Blaine smirks, slightly surprised at the text, but happy all the same. He takes a step forward with the line, looks around before replying.

 

Blaine Work  
15.21  
You would be correct : ) they’re not exactly talking easily with each other, it’s better when there’s a group of us. We’re actually all hanging out today, slow but steady progress I think. Was it your idea for Burt to come? B 

 

Carole  
15.22  
Good to hear, I’m glad. No, I wanted to come and supervise but he wouldn’t let me! :o… I understand though, Burt needed to take ownership of the situation, and I think he felt better about knowing that you were there too. Enjoy your day sweetheart. You’re a good man, I hope that they’re not giving you too much of a head ache. Carole x

 

Blaine smiles and pockets his phone, he loves Carole. No, the whole thing hasn’t been as quite the head fuck as Blaine had anticipated it to be, at least not yet. As always Kurt is still surprising him, heading straight instead of taking corners, some might even say zigging instead of zagging. 

 

He’s finally called up to the counter to be served when Kurt suddenly appears out of nowhere and approaches him from behind, his mouth a little too close to Blaine’s ear, with his chin ducking over Blaine’s shoulder, not quite touching, it’s all very intimate in a none-intimate way, if that makes any sense at all, but this is Kurt and Blaine after all.

 

“Oh it’s like you can read my mind.” Kurt husks, obviously spying the candy already waiting to be purchased in Blaine’s hand. Blaine smiles, tells the cashier what he would like and then turns his chin towards Kurt over his shoulder.

 

“I can’t. I’m not magic. I just know you, I get you.” Their eyes catch, deep and bold and powerful, Blaine actually feels himself sway on his feet, too caught up in the intensity of the gaze. 

 

“Yeah, yes you do…and I think that you’re a little bit magic.” Kurt’s eyes are too bright, too soft, his lips plump and lifting secretly at the corners, his words sending sparks flying with every whispered breath. Blaine’s lips part slightly, eyes fluttering closed, momentarily, becoming lost in his head, his skin vibrating with need and want. 

 

The foyer is reasonably quiet now, most of the clientele are mostly old theater buffs or research students, nobody who would pay much mind to a designer and his father and personal assistant out on a random afternoon jaunt. The small group of people who actually had recognised and some of them Blaine too, had already cornered Kurt for photos and autographs when they’d first spotted him before curtain call, Blaine had decidedly stepped back, standing with Burt and pointing at the program he’d held in his hand. 

 

Still it is not the time nor the place, Blaine can only secretly thrill in the feel of the undertones of Kurt’s quiet flirting and savour it for later, though if Kurt wants to play a little, if he’s brave enough, than Blaine can be too right? He should indulge. Blaine inches back, the hem of his pea coat brushing against Kurt’s thigh. 

 

A heavy hand suddenly drops down on to Blaine’s shoulder, the opposite of where Kurt’s body is positioned, startling him out of wherever he was, whatever he was going to say or do. 

 

“These for me?” Burt scoops the carton of nuts up off of the counter obliviously. “Thanks bud,” he says, his voice gruff yet light and somewhat happy. 

 

Burt shuffles past the pair, shovelling handfuls into his mouth, and heads back to their section to retake their seats before the curtain goes up again. Kurt watches him go, rolling his eyes with a hint of a fond smirk and only briefly sending Blaine a shy knowing glance. They finish up paying and take their treats back into the auditorium, just before the house lights dim and the actors arrive back on stage. 

 

If their fingers brush together and linger whilst both men reach into the little bag for a scoop of chocolate candy at the same time, well at least the room is dark and nobody can see the tell tale grin on Blaine’s face. 

 

All eyes are trained to the stage, not to the man sitting hopelessly, helplessly, undeniably in love. 

 

*

 

After the show, the tiredness from the activities the night before seem to collectively kick in and with heavy eyes and weary heads, though happy and relaxed with laughter and the buzz of a good live show, they head back, picking up Chinese take-out on the way for later.

 

Burt kicks off his boots and shrugs out of his coat, heading straight for the living room, picking up the TV remote on his way and switching the thing on. Blaine subtly kicks Burt’s boots over to the matt next to the small neat wooden storage unit in the entrance hall, and takes Burt’s coat from him and hangs it on a hook in the coat cupboard. Kurt doesn’t need reason to become irate or flustered. 

 

Blaine looses track of Kurt’s whereabouts whilst he puts the take out cartons away in the fridge for later and makes Burt a cup of tea to warm him from the brief late afternoon chill of being out in the city. He figures that Kurt is probably just off, being Kurt somewhere, just figuring things out in his head, so Blaine sits with Burt for a little while, discussing their favourite parts and highlights of the show they’d just seen.

 

“Kurt has a beautiful voice.” Burt says, quiet and gentle, unexpectedly. “I miss hearing him sing. Have you heard him?” He turns to Blaine, his eyes searching, somehow far-off.

 

Blaine shakes his head, “No, no I haven’t, but I could imagine what he sounds like. We talked about it and Santana told me he was good, that they were in glee club together, Sam too.” Burt nods, sips his tea quietly, pensively.

 

“You know, I always thought that he’d end up on a stage like that, big and fancy, all up in lights, I could see him doing something like that, like what we saw those actors were doing, I thought that that’s what he wanted.” Burt gazes off, lost in thought until his eyes snap back to Blaine, and his fingers curl tighter around his tea cup. “He’s better than those people we seen today, he could do that.” Blaine smiles and nods.

 

“I don’t doubt that you’re right Burt.” 

 

“The thing is though, you just want your kids to be happy, that’s what you’re supposed to do isn’t it, you tell them to go and make themselves happy and you support them through it, but as a parent you’re not always prepared for what comes next, you sometimes make the mistake of assuming that you know, and you expect what you assume.”

 

Blaine suddenly feels like he’s talking to Kurt, with his cryptic messages and misunderstood meanings, but he gets it anyway, he gets Burt, he can feel the raw truth pouring from him. Strangely, everything begins to fall in to place, pieces slotting together. Burt is just a man, just a father, who couldn’t do right for doing wrong, and vice versa, but he tried all the same. 

 

“I knew that he always liked fashion and clothes and stuff, that’s just a given, that kid always looked great, weird and nothing that I would wear, but always great, he was always talented at making his own stuff and piecing things together, but then-when, when he got recognized and-” 

 

They hear shuffling and distant foot steps out in the hallway, Burt stops speaking, head turned and eyes glued to the back doorway as Kurt comes slowly striding into the kitchen with his arms folded around himself, an obvious sign of un-surety and insecurity, his cheeks flushed and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. There’s no doubt that he’d over-heard, even just a little. 

 

Burt could stay another day, they could all act like everything is just fine and dandy, or he and Kurt can talk, and he can start doing what he came to do, instead of leaving it until the last minute, when it’s too late and there’s no time for explanations or heartfelt conversation.

 

Blaine, though his chest thumps to pull Kurt into his arms, to make those sad eyes sparkle like he knows how, stands regrettably, fidgeting and mutters some lame half hearted excuse of needing to go upstairs. He practically pulls himself up the staircase, his head and heart heavy. 

 

*

 

Blaine stays upstairs surprisingly for almost an hour. 

 

Silently, distractedly he makes himself as useful up there as he can be whilst listening to nothing, struggling to just catch only very faint muffled voices filtering upwards from the floor just a few steps below.

 

First he uses the bathroom, washes up a little bit, swaps out Jes’s litter tray and wonders for a minute where the little cat could be, before figuring out that he’s probably camping out in Burt’s guest room after taking an almost immediate liking to the man.   
Blaine understands, Burt is deeply likeable even with the strains of the ‘old tough guy’ look about him, there’s nothing to him but a gentleman, devoted to his own background and likes and dislikes, opinionated and strong willed, but also devoted to his family. 

 

He then potters around his room, tidies away some stray objects, squirts some aftershave and cracks open a window to try and dilute Santana’s strong waft of perfume and hairspray from earlier.

 

At the almost half an hour mark he becomes restless, checks his phone, his ears literally straining for sounds of distress. He lies on his bed, folding his arms under his head and wills his eyes to close, hoping he can catch just a little bit of rest whilst he waits. Sleep doesn’t come.

 

The small hand reaches the top, and the larger one ticks passed on the face of his wrist watch, making it just over an hour passed. Blaine cracks open his bedroom door, he sits on the first step out on the landing, his face in his hands and elbows on his knees, and when Jester curiously finds him after leaving the guest room, they sit together silently, looking helplessly down the steps and the hall, with still just very faint muffled sounds, barely audible and unintelligible.

 

Then he hears it, something, a voice slightly raised, a little loud and breathy, panic and distress etched into the tones, he knows that voice. Blaine gets to his feet and slowly starts to descend the steps, Jester pressing himself against his legs, ears pricked as they move together.

 

“This is what you wanted dad, this is who you told me to be.”

 

“You’re very kind and generous Kurt, that sweet part of you has never changed. I didn’t tell you to lose yourself, or to forget who you are and become a jerk who thinks he’s better than everybody else.”

 

Blaine’s skin prickles, he winces, though Burt’s tone is not unkind no matter the implication, that’s not Kurt, Kurt is not like that, not to him at least. 

 

“All those jocks, all those kids who knocked me down, called me names, the ones who threatened me, they threatened me because they felt threatened, of who I was, how different I was. You know what I went through.” 

 

There’s a deep sigh. “Kurt, of course I know, come on kid, you know that-”

 

“Well you know what, now they’re right to feel threatened because, look at me, look at who I am now-”

 

“Kurt-” Burt’s tone is slightly warning.

 

Blaine reaches the bottom, quietly making his way over to the archway, and staying just beyond the side wall, still wanting to be unseen, for now. 

 

“You know what, if I’m so unbearable now, too successful-”

 

“I never said that Kurt and you know it-”

 

“You’re thinking it, you’re implying it-”

 

There’s a deep gruff noise. “Maybe this was a mistake-” Burt sounds tired, almost resigned. 

 

“Yeah, you’re right it was. And you know what else, telling your kid to go off and be who he wants to be, and then not be happy with the results, well that was a mistake too-”

 

“Kurt, cut it out, it’s not like that-” 

 

Blaine pushes himself off the wall, hands braced at his sides. He takes a half step forward and rocks back on his heel, knee bent. He has never felt so torn, so in the middle, so unsure of what to do, how to react.

 

Kurt, businessman Kurt, powerful and successful is breaking out, breaking free with each passing second, and bitter word uttered. Though kind and caring as Blaine knows Kurt can be, is really, this is the side of Kurt who can turn his nose up, who can turn his cheek and not understand why he can’t always have what he wants and how he wants it. 

 

“You should be proud, you told me to chase my dreams, to be who I am, to go out and get what I want. Well guess what, I have-”

 

“This isn’t what you want Kurt, it’s not. You went too far.”

 

Blaine blows out a breath, steadies himself, he doesn’t want to get involved, it’s not his place to, but maybe he can help some how, maybe he can soothe and calm things before they get too out of hand, and something is said that cannot be taken back. He knows that Burt trusts him to do that, and maybe Kurt too, sort of. 

 

“You could have what you want Kurt, you could have the happiness all you wanted, without all of this other false pretence. You could have your prince charming you always dreamed about it, hell you already have him-”

 

“Don’t dad, just don’t-” Kurt barely whimpers, he sounds broken, so weak, so lost. Blaine aches. 

 

Jester chooses that moment to meow loudly and roll and stretch, his claws scratching against the hardwood floors by Blaine’s feet. The conversation next door halts, leaving silence to fill the vast space.   
Kurt thunders out of the room suddenly like a whirlwind, straight passed Blaine, almost stumbling over Jester who is sprawling along the floor who leaps up and out of the way. Kurt doesn’t even stop to look back or anyway apart from where his feet is carrying him, he just heads straight for the study, strangely, goes inside and slams the door shut behind him, no invitation for anybody else.

 

Blaine waits a beat, his heart pounding in his chest, then Burt slowly comes out of the living area, a hand rubbing over his head.   
“I’m uh-” He gestures upstairs, “I’m just gonna go-” He trails off, not finishing his sentence just heading straight for the steps and heaving himself up slowly, shaking his head from side to side and sighing deeply. Before he’s completely out of sight, he looks back down at Blaine and his eyes tell Blaine everything he needs to know, it’s like they’re saying ‘it’s your turn now.’ 

 

Blaine could wait, he could stay out of the way, and wait to see if this will all ride out, but he knows that it won’t, this could all end up the way that it had, only this time there may not be another opportunity for reconciliation. This could be it. Burt could leave and that would be that. Blaine won’t let that happen. 

 

It’s just words. Words are designed to create impact, they can be used as weapons, they can be defined and shielded and twisted and manipulated. They can also be corrected to a certain extent, they can be used to soften and edge a blow, they can be held dearly in head and in heart, if used in the right way, and at the right time.

 

Music, subtle and soft comes from behind the closed study door as Blaine turns towards it. Live music, piano music, Kurt must be playing Blaine’s keyboard. It’s not a full melody, but a tune nonetheless, played with some minor keys, sounding a little sad and a little sudden, like the keys are being pushed down firmly with a little too much force.

 

Blaine opens the study door, not even looking around for Kurt until he’s inside and closing the door behind him and turning around. Kurt doesn’t stop playing, doesn’t look up from his fingers skimming the notes. Blaine comes closer, in small careful steps. 

 

“I love listening to you play, when you don’t know that I’m listening. It calms me. Your music, calms me.” 

 

Blaine stops short, eyebrows raised, Kurt’s voice is so quiet and surprisingly soft, covered by the harsh clash of the keys ringing out below him, basic recognition of the song starts to filter in through Blaine’s mind, it’s one of Blaine’s own, something he’d made up years ago and recorded himself playing, he didn’t even know that the video was still available to view online. 

 

“I uh, that’s, you’re-”

 

“I never wanted you to give up on what you wanted Blaine, it’s why I put these instruments in here for you. My dreams, my happiness never worked out the way I thought it would-”

 

“You’re not happy?” Blaine tries to keep his voice even, tries to hide the slight tremble. 

 

“I guess, I just took a different path,” Kurt says on a sigh, still playing soft notes. “But you still have everything ahead of you. Why are you wasting your time here with me, making yourself part of this travesty?” 

 

“Kurt, what are you saying, don’t be-”

 

“Do you hate me now?” The keys suddenly clatter to silence, Kurt looks up from his hands, eyes almost blown.

 

Blaine rubs a hand over his brow, perches against the edge of the small love seat, arms folded and shoulders hunched, but it’s not a posture of defeat, he won’t give up, not now. “I didn’t-I wasn’t, no, don’t be stupid Kurt, you know that I don’t, I never could, and I’m not wasting my time.”

 

Kurt sighs, words looking lost on him, fading from his tongue and hiding behind the depths of his heavy eyes.   
“That was inevitable, what happened in there, with me and him, um my dad.” Kurt nods to the door, he looks so sad, it almost breaks Blaine’s heart.

 

“You just need to hear each other out, that’s all Kurt, you were talking for quite a while before it came to…that, whatever that was, something must have been working out, go back out there, go find him and deal with this all once and for all.”

 

“I’m just not who he wants me to be anymore, I can’t be that person. If I can’t live up to people’s expectations then they should just leave me alone, let me be me.” Blaine stands, comes around to stand in front of Kurt at the keyboard stool and kneels down before him, demanding his full attention. 

 

“You are wonderful as you are Kurt, nobody wants you to change or be any different or any less or more than who you are. Your father, your friends just want you to be happy, they want you to be content. Be honest with yourself Kurt, you may be rich and successful, have the world at your feet, it may feel good to talk to people the way you do, to look at them the way you do, the way you can. But it doesn’t make you any happier, admit it, you’ve pretty much said it already.”

 

He stops and pulls back to look up, catching a good look at Kurt’s face. “Most people hire a PA to boss them around and feel good about themselves, but that’s just not the case with us, you and I both know it. You’re a good man, you’re good to me, you make me feel wanted and needed, you make me feel safe.” Kurt’s eyes clear, bright and blue and bold, they brim with unshed tears, red at the rims. 

 

Blaine takes a deep breath, he lifts one of Kurt’s hands and pulls it down to entwine within his own. “You don’t have to be that way any more, not now. You’re not like that with me, so don’t be that way with anyone else, ever.”  
Another deep breath, steady and slow, Kurt mimics him. It’s time now, it’s time to get it all out. Blaine tugs gently on his hand.

 

“It’s different now, you put yourself high on this pedestal so that nobody can touch you, so that nobody would want to, you let people think that it’s because you’re too good for everybody else,” Kurt’s features harden, eyes never leaving Blaine’s face. Blaine continues, words low and quiet and careful, but powerful all the same.  
“But-but really you’re just afraid that people will hate you-”

 

Kurt exhales a shuddering breath, eyes rolling away, harsh and fast and slick. “Well they usually do, you should-”

 

Blaine blanches a little but refuses to let Kurt deter him, it’s just words. Blaine will never hate him, and Kurt knows it, Kurt knows how much he possibly cannot hate him. “But I think it’s because you know, you know the truth, and you’re afraid,”

 

Kurt stands breaking hold of their hands and causing Blaine to almost stumble backwards until he’s rising to his feet, turning to Kurt, pinning him with a hard stare.

 

“Afraid of what exactly?” 

 

“Afraid that people will love you, you’ve closed yourself off to it, forgot what it feels like, that’s why you’re so hard on your dad, so hard on yourself, your just projecting your own feelings off of him and back to yourself.” Blaine waits and watches. Kurt doesn’t look like he’s about to argue, not yet.

 

“You feel like you don’t deserve it anymore, your dad’s love and his patience. Or anyone’s I suppose, for that matter. Well guess what, you don’t get a choice, everybody makes mistakes and everybody deserves somebody to love them. Real love, not the bought shit, not the kind that comes with fame and fortune-”

 

“And who the hell would be stupid enough to offer me that aside from my father?” Kurt’s looking at him, like he’s willing him, daring him.

 

It’s all or nothing. It’s time. 

 

“I would, I fucking do,” Blaine bites his lip, lets it go with a harsh breath, squints his eyes closed, wills himself to calm. “You know that I do, and it’s not stupid.”

 

And there it is, all laid out. Everything seems to feel off balance, out of kilter, the temperature changes around the room, dropping quickly to suddenly rising and it’s too warm, too close. The atmosphere is thick and heady, everything fading to an almost blurriness. 

 

Blaine steps forward towards Kurt, approaching him cautiously like you would a wild animal. His voice hoarse, so deep it sounds like it hurts to speak. His eyes are so very dark, burnt out smudges of toffee, still melting, still burning. 

 

“So let me Kurt, let me love you, because I-I know that you love me back, you do, I know you do, you just won’t admit it. Let yourself, let us do this!”  
Kurt stays quiet, his eyes shining and shoulders lifting and falling heavily. Blaine moves closer, his fingers flex, aching to reach out but he keeps them pinned to his side, not quite trusting himself.

 

“Don’t keep running away from everything Kurt, don’t let your past define you. Don’t run, not anymore, from the assholes that made you feel like this, from your dad, or from me, especially me. Don’t keep fighting alone.” 

 

He won’t beg, he can’t, he still needs his pride. If he has nothing else left he needs to hold on to something, even if his pride is already battered and bruised, he still needs it.

 

Patiently and silently he waits, feeling the like room is spinning around him, though one pair of glassy grey-blue eyes never lose focus. His chest pounds double time, feeling like it’s not just his own heart that is occupying the space, theoretically he supposes that it’s not.   
His heart will never beat the same way again, he will never feel or be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Ooooohhhh! ... I’ll be back with you all asap. Thank you!


	21. Chapter 21

Time feels like it has stopped, the world outside seeming to zoom past whilst Blaine’s own private little world feeling like it’s slipping away from its very core. Seconds somehow still manage to skip past minutes altogether and literally feel like hours, hours of a stand-still, silence and staring. Kurt’s face, his beautiful face and his round and wide eyes like never ending galaxies zone in and out Blaine’s vision, his main focus. He feels like the world is tipped on an axis whilst he waits, whilst he watches. His heart pounding, feeling like it’s rising in his throat, restricting his air flow. 

 

He’s vaguely aware of footsteps above their heads, both soft and hard, followed by a loud gentle thump, something that sounds like a door creaking open and then the sounds become closer and considerably louder, until footfalls can be heard from over by the stair case and then out in the hall, nearing the closed door where they are tucked just behind. A heart breaking, terrifying reality hidden away from another reality altogether.

 

Blaine tries to listen hard, past the pumping of his heart, the blood rushing through his veins and projecting through his ears and the pounding of his chest and ribcage. He feels breathless, almost winded with the colossal amount of feelings and emotions running through, nineteen to the dozen. He’s feeling something vague, something cautious and weary, noting his conscious of what’s right and what’s appropriate. 

 

He tries to pull his focus away from the look of Kurt lips, so full and pink, and wet and loose. He tracks the movement of Kurt’s hand harshly digging into his own hair, his breathing huffing out in desperate pants. Blaine manages a quick glance towards the door, where the now unmistakable sound of Burt moving heavy footed, heaving a duffel bag across the squeaky shiny floorboards get’s louder as he passes. His throat is tightening and his fingers and feet are itching to move, to escape, it feels like the four walls are literally closing in on him. 

 

He starts to move, slowly, careful steps, a heavy foot followed by a heavy leg, one at a time, he can’t take it, cant take the wait or silence, it’s eating him inside out, if this is it, if this is the end, then it needs to be now, not later. It’s like slow motion, heavy limbed movements against a fast paced conveyer belt. Blaine can barely feel his own body, his head light on his shoulders, like he’s swimming in an endless pit. 

 

And then Kurt is suddenly just there in front of him, between him and the door, blocking his path, with eyes like shards of sun-tinted glass, glistening wildly. He shakes his head slowly, his voice coming out more breath, gruff and hoarse than actually vocalised, though still steady and soft.  
“No,” Blaine takes a sharp breath, feels the force of Kurt’s words. “No,” Kurt repeats a little louder. “You don’t get to say-to talk like that and then just leave. Stay, you’re staying here.”

 

His cheeks flush and Blaine can’t quite pinpoint what emotion he sees flashing across his face and features and through those bewitched eyes. A loud electronic ding rings out from behind the door out in the hallway indicating that the elevator has been called up. They share a look, a look of brief panic and worry and then Kurt is opening the door in a flurry with a light shake of his head, and stumbling out into the hallway, his shoes echoing out against the wood, as he half asses an attempt at mumbling out something intelligible towards his dad’s direction.

 

Blaine gets to the doorway, peeking his head out, just on time to see Kurt slide into the elevator, saddling up alongside a shocked looking Burt with his luggage. Just before the doors slide to a close with a vibrating hum, their eyes catch, wild, wide and bright, and Blaine knows exactly what Kurt is telling him without even having to open his mouth. 

 

Stay. You’re staying here.

 

*

 

By the time that Kurt finally returns to the condo, the sky outside is painted a dark purpling blue, with a slight chill in the air. Blaine sits in the middle of his bed, his skin slightly shivering but still shower warm from when he’d spent long minutes soaking himself under the harsh hot pelts of down pour, trying to kick some feeling into the numbness that had overtook his body. Afterwards he’d changed into a dark red cable-knit sweater and jeans, and carelessly swiped some product through his hair, because wherever he may end up tonight, nobody deserves to see his frizz-dry curls. 

 

He sits stiffly, his arms hugging his knees, eyes blinking bleakly over the tops into the hollow darkness of the room. He isn’t sure how much time has passed, hasn’t been able to look at his phone where he’d thrown it into his messenger bag, and has left his new Tiffany watch discarded in the top drawer of his nightstand, he doesn’t need it, he doesn’t need reminders. 

 

Because of the eerily quiet emptiness of the house, Blaine hears the elevator arrive, the doors sliding open and only one pair footsteps striding across the hardwood panels, no voices, Kurt has returned alone. 

 

He hears the quiet creak of the stair case, and isn’t surprised when moments later his bedroom door opens. He doesn’t look up, keeps his chin tucked between his knees and his eyes downcast towards the bed covers. He doesn’t need to see Kurt for this, Kurt can tell him what he needs to, he can fire him and then he can leave. Like ripping off a band aid, he thinks, quick and easy and pain free, at least for now, until he can allow himself to feel again.

 

The doors closes again quietly and the footsteps continue, Blaine can just see the tops of Kurt’s socked feet coming closer to the bed, he’s taken his shoes off, well it would be a shame to ruin the upstairs flooring. The night stand lamp clicks on, dimly lighting the room, and the mattress dips, Blaine’s knees falling down to the mattress with the movement, his head raising slowly, curiously.

 

“Hey.” Their eyes finally connect, and the sight almost takes Blaine’s breath away. Kurt’s eyes are the softest shade of green Blaine has ever seen them, rimmed with blue and dotted with silver, completely alight, crinkled with thought and wonder, and big in his flushed gorgeous face. Kurt’s still wearing the clothes he’d had on earlier and Blaine can tell where the nip of the night air has caught his skin, without a scarf or a coat to warm him. His lips are pressed together, not quite smiling but certainly not unhappy.

 

“Hi.” Blaine replies, unsure of what else to say, of what he should be saying. Kurt bends his legs underneath himself and gets comfortable, their legs brushing against each other with the shift. He picks at a loose thread in the covers where Jester’s claws have obviously explored, Jester who’s obviously been wise enough to steer well clear within a five mile radius of tonight’s events. 

 

“My dad is staying with Sam tonight, he’s ok.” Kurt’s voice is so gentle, with his head tilted to the side while he talks, his eyes searching Blaine’s, like he’s gauging the situation, like Blaine is a frightened stray animal poised to break free at any moment, and Kurt just can’t, doesn’t want that to happen.

 

Blaine nods and looks down to watch Kurt’s long fingers trace the pattern of the duvet. “Did you two talk? Are you both ok?” He looks back up to find Kurt nodding back at him, slowly and lightly. 

 

“We did, and yes I think so, now we are. I don’t want to talk about that now though. Not yet.” Now it’s Blaine’s turn to nod, looking back down, averting his gaze like a scolded child, awaiting punishment, he’s barely keeping the grimace from his face. 

 

“Are you ok?” He decides to ask without looking back up, he doesn’t need to see, he just wants to know, as long as Kurt is ok and Blaine has sent him hurdling into a downwards spiral. 

 

He startles when Kurt suddenly reaches out and takes both of his hands between his own, his long fingers smooth and cool, his skin is still warming from the chill of the outside breeze, and it sends a thrill through Blaine’s veins and gooseflesh scurrying over his forearms. 

 

“Blaine-” Blaine doesn’t have to look up to see the slight smile in Kurt’s voice, he can hear it, and it feels like sunrise on a hot summers day. Blaine starts shaking his head anyway, dread and doubt overpowering his thoughts and better judgement.

 

“God I’m sorry Kurt, I’m so, so sorry.” He pauses, bites his lip and finally looks up, his eyes hues of hazel and flecks of green locked on to Kurt’s. “I-I mean I’m not sorry for what I said, honestly I meant that Kurt, but I am sorry for how I said it and how I-god I was just so out of line-”

 

Kurt climbs on to his knees, tugs on their entwined hands so that their bodies are only inches apart, their chests heaving together, breaths filling the air and small space between them. “I’m sorry too.”

 

“What-why, you have no reason- it was me-”

 

“Oh shush Blaine,” Kurt husks, humour lightly curled into the words. “I have every reason to say sorry, and you know it. I’ve been a complete asshole, and you totally have not deserved all of the crap that I’ve put you through-”

 

“You tried to warn me Kurt.” Kurt’s reply dies on his tongue, swallowed by a deep intake of breath.

 

“Wh-what-”

 

“You told me that you couldn’t make me any promises, you tried to stay away from me, you tried to warn me not too fall for you and I did anyway, I didn’t listen but I’m not stupid, I read the signs, I saw them.” His lips quirk, and he lightly rocks their hands between their bent legs, courage seeming to get the better of him, adrenaline fuelled bravery pumping him up, encouraging him. “The truth is, I’d already fallen for you, I was already a goner, nothing was going to deter me. Call me a fool-” He smirks, followed by a low giggle.

 

Kurt can’t help but smile and laugh breathlessly, “You’re hardly foolish, Blaine.   
A fool isn’t as brave and strong and clever as you are. And by the way, where is this attitude when it comes to your career?” 

 

“I have a career.” Blaine sounds affronted.

 

“Yes you do. But not yours, not what you would have chosen for yourself-”

 

“I chose this Kurt, I chose to apply and interview for you.”

 

“You didn’t know what you were letting yourself in for, you’d done no research-”

 

“You hired me.” He accuses, though his tone is light, his eyes shining with warmth, lips tugging up at the corners. Kurt nods, smirking.

 

“We’ve been over this. I couldn’t have possibly not have.”

 

Blaine shrugs and sighs deeply, their eyes lingering, palms warming within each others, hearts racing.   
“I guess I took a leap of faith.” Blaine says after a while quietly and softly, his voice both lifts and cracks slightly at the edges.

 

“And did it work?” Kurt’s voice deepens and lowers to a hush, leaning in slowly. Blaine shrugs again, eyes darkening. 

 

“You tell me, did it?” 

 

Kurt finally leans in all of the way, closing the gap between them. Slowly he takes Blaine’s lips between his own, swallowing his surprised gasp and responsive moan, murmuring his reply between soft, wet strokes. “You weren’t the only one who took a leap, you know, and I’d say yes, it did, it worked.”

 

Kurt gently lowers them down to the mattress, sprawling himself firmly over Blaine’s chest, his fingers clutching at his sweater. Blaine nips his lip between his teeth, bumps their noses together.  
“I still don’t expect promises from you Kurt.” His voice is weak, breathy and hushed. “I don’t want your promises, just your permission, permission that you’ll let me try, that you’ll let me push and hope and want-”

 

Kurt peppers his face with kisses, starts the delicious decline to his jaw.   
“Blaine.” His eyes darken like storm clouds. “I’ll let you do, I’ll let you have anything you want, my word, my time, my promises, they’re all yours, only ever yours. You have no idea what you’ve done, what you do for me, there’s no way that I could ever-” 

 

Blaine rolls them over, pushing himself up and over with every ounce of strength that he still possesses, growling lightly through his teeth, a sound which is almost triumphant, whilst he kisses Kurt with fervour, the heat sizzling between them. They watch each other intently, listening and savouring each moan and groan that escapes one another, whilst each layer of clothing is peeled from their bodies, achingly sinfully slow.

 

They look at each other deep and careful, their eyes dark and full of meaning and silent questioning, but by the time Blaine is fully unclothed, with Kurt equally gloriously naked he’s found himself happily on his back again. There was only ever going to be one answer to that question tonight of all nights. Blaine needs Kurt, in and out, surrounding him, filling him up, filling that void, and not just in the physical sexual sense but in all ways. 

 

With his knees bent and legs spread, Blaine thrusts his hips upwards greedily as Kurt gets to work stretching him open with slick fingers, as quickly and efficiently as each other will allow right now. The tube of lubricant had been easy to dig out of the side drawer and Blaine’s body had been anything but tense and tight. He was ready for Kurt, had been more than ready for so, so long. There is no need for any pretence, no need for anything else, there’s time for that later. But for now just this, just them, connected wholly and fully, finally. 

 

When Kurt manages a third finger alongside the others, knuckle deep, Blaine is whimpering impatiently below him, he doesn’t need to ask, he doesn’t need to beg, Kurt knows what he wants, what he needs, and he’s going to take care of him. Blaine knows that he will, that he’s the only one who can. 

 

“Blaine-” Kurt hisses as he removes his fingers and grinds down, their erections both hard and wet and ready, prodding and teasing against each other. Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders, his hands firmly palming each defined muscle which frames his shoulder blades, stopping him from moving up and away. Blaine knows what Kurt’s about to do and he doesn’t need to. They don’t need anything between them, they don’t anything ever but themselves, flesh and blood, live and full and raw. 

 

“No,” Blaine grounds out, with his jaw clenched. A delicious sheen of sweat lines his forehead and the nape of his neck, loosening his curls. He kisses Kurt’s face. “Just you.” He whispers, kisses his jaw down to his neck. “Just you, nothing else.”

 

Kurt nods and groans, swivels his hips causing them both to cry out.   
“There’s no-one else, only you.” He says by way of response, hoping that Blaine will get it, that he will know.

 

Blaine’s eyes roll to the back of his head, pupils darkening, he slides his hands down to Kurt’s hips, squeezes and tugs him down hard and fast.  
“I know. You’re it for me. We’re it.” He knows, they both do. 

 

Kurt digs his fingers into Blaine’s sweat slick curls with the first push, his toned arms and legs trembling with held back force and desire as he slides his body forwards, balanced on his knees and strong thighs, hovering over Blaine’s body whilst he presses in, achingly slow and precise.

 

Finally. Blaine’s whole body feels like its on fire, trembling as Kurt slides into him. Filling him up, so whole and full and pure, so right. He feels like how he was always meant to be, pieces falling into place, his heart slotting back together and locking in tight. 

 

“Yes.” Blaine whispers, his face buried into Kurt’s neck, panting hot and wet. “Yes Kurt, god yes, it’s-you’re-”

 

Kurt nudges their faces together, kisses him quiet, hisses through wet presses and clashes of teeth and slick slides of tongue.   
“I know, baby, I know.” Blaine’s skin shivers, his whole body threatening to convulse off of the massive with the term of endearment, he whimpers shamelessly. 

 

When Kurt finally bottoms out, they lie still for a few silent moments, forehead to forehead breathing and feeling, accommodating the delicious stretch and the pleasurable tight burn, their arms and legs practically wrapped around each other. There’s no space between them, no slither of skin that isn’t touched, they’re connected through body and mind, and maybe, quite possibly by soul. 

 

Blaine can feel Kurt’s heart beating steadily up above him, pressed to his chest, he can feel his cock buried deep within him, pulsing and throbbing, it feels perfect, it’s just perfect, just right. Blaine squeezes, lifts a leg to wrap around Kurt’s waist. “Kurt. Kurt, honey please-”

 

Kurt moves his head, presses his mouth lazily against Blaine and whispers. “Ok. Yes, ok.” 

 

He begins to move so slowly, in short gentle thrusts, and Blaine feels ignited with it, he feels like everything he thought he would and more. When the tightness between them begins to ebb and slacken, the pace quickens, Kurt grunting with each thrust and grind he offers, harder each time, and harder again still, his hands sliding down to bracket Blaine’s waist and position them both perfectly just the way he wants, the way he needs it. 

 

“Blaine, god Blaine, fuck yes. Yes.” Kurt moans, swivelling his hips. “So tight, so perfect, so mine, finally mine. ”

 

“Yours.” Blaine pants, moving his hips on time with Kurt’s, curling his legs tight around him. He feels dizzy, flying on air. “Fuck yes, I’m yours, fuck me, please, don’t stop.”

 

The sound Kurt makes is guttural, like a growl, curling up through his chest and throat and ripping past his lips, as he hammers into Blaine with gusto. It’s fast yes, growing faster and harder by the second, but no less passionate, no less laced with feelings and unlimited desire. Lust, wrapped with love, that’s what this is. Blaine feels his pulse quicken, feels his stomach tighten and pull, deep and low, his whole body quivering.

 

“Kurt I’m, I’m, I have to-” He’s not even ashamed, he’s wanted this for so long, he’s surprised that he’s last this long at all. 

 

Kurt lifts his body upwards, slows his movement and starts fucking Blaine in long and slow drawls, finding and hitting his prostate in that perfect spot as he moves a hand in-between their sweaty shaking bodies. Blaine cries out when Kurt’s warm moist palm tightens around his cock, his fingers expertly squeezing in all of the right places at the right times, his thumb caressing the pink flushed head of it, spreading out the pearly drops of pre-come, the perfect amount of friction. His pumping cock relentless inside of him, Kurt is literally touching and fucking him into a complete state of ecstasy with no intention of stopping.

 

“K-Kurt, shit, I-” He’s almost winded and breathless, any voice he has left rasped and hoarse. Kurt moans and smiles against his lips, hips jolting forward and fist flying.

 

“Yes that’s it sweetheart. God the sounds you make for me. I love them. Come for me, that’s it.” 

 

Blaine comes wordlessly but not soundlessly, his throat scratching as he cries out, eyes squeezed shut, body quivering deliciously and arms and legs falling limply to the sides as Kurt fucks him through it. 

 

“There we go baby, that’s it.” Vision begins to return to Blaine in blurriness and faded patches, his mind clicking back to in place as his cock gives one last weak spurt, gushing out hot and thick over his stomach, and Kurt’s, he cries out Kurt’s name, the four letters rolling off of his tongue expertly.

 

Kurt clamps down on his shoulder, grunting and moaning past his teeth as he thrusts and grinds and fucks and then he’s finally coming, filling Blaine with all that he has, pounding into him wetly until there’s nothing left to give and he’s collapsing on top of Blaine’s chest, his name a breathless gasp past his lips.

 

They lie still and damp, hot and sticky for god only knows how long, their stomachs and chests glued together and each other’s breath warm and wet on their skin. Kurt presses a kiss to Blaine’s shoulder, his lips rubbing softly against his fading teeth marks, the sting a delicious volt of pleasure. 

 

Kurt slowly, tentatively lifts himself up, Blaine takes his face in his hands, his eyes wide and urgent, panic stricken. Kurt leans down and in, kisses Blaine’s lips again and again, hard and meaningful.   
“I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry I’ll be right be back.” His eyes telling a thousand truths.

 

He’s right, he sticks to his word. Kurt gets up to fetch a damp cloth from Blaine’s en-suite and fills up a water glass from his wash basin. When he returns he cleans them both up, lifts Blaine’s head to gently pour some water past his lips, and then climbs back into bed beside him, rolling them over into a dry a spot and taking Blaine into his arms, back to chest, kissing the nape of his neck. 

 

Blaine can hardly believe it, can hardly believe what’s happened, how vastly different this has all ended up compared to how he had planned it in his head. He can feel Kurt’s heart beating through his warm chest pressed to his back, he can’t help but smile giddily, his face half smushed into his crumpled pillows.

 

Kurt spies Blaine’s packed bags propped up in the doorway of his closet, that he had gotten ready earlier in his worried and frantic haste, not knowing what his fate here at the condo and in Kurt’s life would end up like.   
“Planning on going somewhere?” Kurt mumbles, teasing and tightening his arms. Blaine just grins harder, ducks and kisses Kurt’s arm, letting Kurt feel him shake his head in answer. 

 

“Spring clear out.” He says, his voice cracking with laughter.

 

“Of course,” Kurt breathes. “What are you smiling at?” Kurt squeezes his side playfully and Blaine smiles harder, rolls over in his arms so that they’re facing each other, noses rubbing, it all feels too good to be true. 

 

“I don’t know,” He says truthfully, even trying to find a through explanation, would consist of too many words and too much time and energy. Kurt kisses his nose. “That was fucking amazing by the way, god, how you felt-”

 

Kurt laughs, high and breathless, cheeks flushing but nodding along, eyes shining if not a little smugly. “Oh good, god of course it was.” He breathes, his hair sticking up against the pillow case.

 

“We’ll talk, I promise,” Kurt says quietly after a while of just looking at each other, drinking it all in, breathing and thinking deeply. “I’ll tell you anything that you want to know, later, another time when we can-” Blaine crinkles his nose, nudges Kurt’s cheek with his nose.

 

“Do we really have to?” Kurt frowns adorably, and Blaine grins at him.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I love you. A lot. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, I’m working for you, I enjoy it, you’d be a mess without me, wouldn’t know how to organise yourself-” Kurt’s barks a laugh, his eyes dancing in the soft lamp light. “What else is there to talk about Kurt? You had a tough time, you dealt with it, you got rich-” Kurt pokes him and Blaine nips his jaw in return, he continues. “You’re successful, your talented and intelligent, you’re beautiful,” Kurt blushes and Blaine bites his own lip, smiling, loving the sight, loving the way he can make Kurt feel and how it shows. “You had shit to deal with, but you dealt all the same, you needed somebody-” 

 

“And here you are.” Kurt finishes for him, matter of fact. Blaine nods, leans in and kisses his forehead.

 

“Here I am. Always.” He whispers. 

 

“I only pushed you away, kept you waiting, kept you at a distance for so long, because I couldn’t even trust myself, before I starting trusting others, again. I knew what you wanted, what you deserved and I thought that I just couldn’t give you that-”

 

“You know that you’re wrong now right?” Blaine says, gently teasing, his hand stroking up and down Kurt’s side. Kurt nods, smiling. 

 

“Yeah,” He whispers. “I think that I do, I finally do.” 

 

“Good, because my persuading techniques are very tiring-” He grins smugly and Kurt raises an eye brow.

 

“Oh? Well may I should just check them out anyway, you know just in case.” Blaine nods, brushing his lips against Kurt’s, his chin, his jaw, his neck.

 

“Maybe you should.” 

 

“Will you do something for me?” Kurt says, suddenly sitting up a little on his elbow and smiling at Blaine’s groan of complaint, though he leans forward and presses a kiss to his chest. He was quite enjoying the intended direction of Blaine’s escapades, but he has to say this piece. 

 

“Anything?” 

 

“Let me help you?”

 

“What?”

 

“Just hear me out ok.” Kurt strokes his fingers through Blaine’s hair reassuringly, soothingly, and Blaine nods silently, eyes wide and curious, willing Kurt to continue.  
“You’re, you will always have a job here with me, I never want to lose you, ever, in any way, so however long you want to continue to work for me in whatever way you want than it’s done, it’s yours-”

 

Blaine sits up now, head tilting curiously. “Um thanks, I guess-” He says, questionably, humoured and light and teasing. “But Kurt you know that I love my job, I’ll never want to leave-”

 

“But I want you to explore too.” Blaine opens his mouth and then closes it, and when Kurt is sure that he’s not going to interrupt he continues. “Fame and fortune isn’t everything, we’ve all learnt that one, but it has its advantages, so please help me by letting me help you. Let me use my career and my status to kick start yours, at least just put you on the map-” Blaine sits up fully now, rapidly shaking his head back and forth.

 

“Kurt no, I don’t want that, I don’t need that. Thank you, so much, but I have my music still, I play, you’ve heard me play, I’m cool-” Kurt sits up now too, the sheets falling around them. He carefully cups Blaine’s jaw. 

 

“Blaine don’t fight me on this please, think about it. You’re stupidly talented, and I’m not suggesting that you need me because you don’t, you’ll get to where you want to be on your own, I’m sure of it. But at least just let me open some doors for you, talk to some insiders, help you find some quiet venues to start off. Let me do this for you, like you have done everything for me. You want this still Blaine, you still want it, I know you do, you can have more than one dream, you can want more than one thing, its ok.” 

 

Blaine eyes start to well, tears stinging hotly behind his lids as he tries to blink them away, his skin flushing and chest thumping hard. His expression crumbling, from shocked to delighted to torn. Kurt had to be other-worldly, he couldn’t be real, he’s too perfect to be real.

 

“What about you?” He sniffs, rubbing his face into Kurt’s palms, nuzzling and moving to place a soft kiss at the centre.

 

“What about me?” 

 

“Will you allow yourself to live more than one dream too?”

 

“Blaine what are-”

 

“Will you do it with me? Can we explore together, would you consider it?” The ‘it’ in question doesn’t have to be stated clearly for both men to know what exactly is implied, but even with the slight unknown Kurt finds himself nodding anyway, his throat working and licking his lips, words building their way up and out, rasped and hoarse. 

 

“We’ll talk about it, yeah, of course.” Blaine’s smile could be bright enough to light a runway, he throws himself into Kurt’s arms, forcing him back down to the mattress and flopping down over him. “Besides-” Kurt rumbles from underneath him, “I’d be too jealous if you got too big and ‘star’ like, we’re just talking like little league here-” He says, teeth peeking out bright and mischievous. 

 

“Oh yeah, ok.” Blaine laughs, eyes rolling, bumping their heads and noses together. 

 

“I do too you know, by the way.” Kurt says after some time, almost too softly, too quietly. Blaine beams down at him, eyes and brow crinkled in deep thought and question.

 

“You do what by the way?” Kurt blows out a deep breath and Blaine feels like he could literally fall into his eyes, deep cloudy bottomless pools, wondrous. 

 

“I-I love you too. A lot, a lot.”

 

And there it is, just when he thought that his heart couldn’t expand any more, when he thought that he couldn’t fall any harder, any deeper. Four words, just four little words that can literally change a person’s life, can cement and secure for years to come, and then another few words thrown in there just for good measure. 

 

Maybe there is stuff to clear up still, things to air out, demons to unearth, public and press to placate, and small matters and such but that can all wait, it will all come with time. What matters is right here, right now. 

 

Blaine leans down, kisses him and kisses him, again and again, and he can feel it. He can feel the truth and the reverence in Kurt’s words, he can feel his love. 

 

“Blaine,” Kurt mumbles, during an intake of breath, smiling against his lips. 

 

“Mmmm?” Blaine mouths at his jaw, travelling downwards with his body crawling backwards, adventurous and insatiable even in their not so young yet still not old age. 

 

“That’s not an Until further Notice thing. This is it. A closed deal. You’re it.”

 

This is it, Blaine thinks, he knows, smiling into Kurt’s skin. This is definitely it.


	22. Chapter 22 and Epilogue

Blaine wakes in a bed that is not his own, he can tell by the shift of the mattress springs underneath his bare back, soft but not too bouncy, shaping to fit his body perfectly as he bends and stretches lazily. Its morning, he knows that much, but unsure of the time exactly. The sun isn’t too bright behind the thin film of his closed eyelids, more like a light grey with specks of blue and yellow, a cloudy morning with threatening sun, and a mild breeze.

 

His body is heavy and tired, but in the best way, not because he needs more sleep or more rest, but definitely more of something else. He hasn’t woken up feeling this good in a long time, though his body aches and stings in places, there’s a delicious thrum of pleasurable undercurrent running through him, igniting him, waking him for more.

 

He finally opens his eyes to find a tuft of brown and bronzed highlighted hair, just center-meters from his face, traces of familiar smelling shampoo filling his nose. He rolls forward as he smiles, wrapping an arm around Kurt’s waist, gliding a wide palm up towards his sternum and pulling him back towards him, tight against his chest. Kurt’s strong shoulders, toned and defined bump against Blaine’s chest and collarbone, a long lean leg inches backwards to tuck intimately between Blaine’s thighs. Kurt groans, deep and gruff and Blaine can feel the vibration against his chest, along with the subtle pumping of their hearts and the steady warmth of their breaths. 

 

Blaine buries his nose into Kurt’s hair, soft and sweet, peppering kisses along his hairline and temple as they lazily doze on and off together, waking casually, naturally, blissfully. The room around them is decorated light and simple, white walls with carefully polished black and silver furnishings and just a shade of dark purple accented here and there, in the swirl of a lampshade cover or patterned grain of a floor rug. 

 

The room, and the bed are not Blaine’s own, but he is home still, he is comfortable and safe and happy, with this man in his arms, he is, will always be home. Blaine knows that this room will soon become a familiar surrounding, that the mattress beneath him will learn the mould of his body, and that the closet across the way may start housing some of his suits, the chest of drawers opposite the bed may display some of his products and that there may be playful arguments over mirror time.

 

He can picture Jester’s kitty bed sitting near the curve of the far corner, his new favourite spot to slumber being the dip between Kurt’s plush pillows. Blaine’s heart feels so full that he could cry, tears of joy and relief, this is all that he ever wanted, could hope and dream for, and it wasn’t once something that he would have considered before meeting Kurt. His chest restricts, beating hard and fast with just the thoughts of the future, just the thoughts of more, and more still.

 

*

 

“Come on buddy, come in here and see Daddy-”

 

Kurt almost drops his phone down into his lap with the outburst of his own snort of laughter. Blaine heads through the doorway grinning widely, carrying a tray, with Jester twisting between his ankles, purring happily. He snickers as he carefully slides back into bed, bumping thighs with Kurt whilst skilfully still holding the tray, Jester hops up at the foot of the mattress, burying himself into the covers beside their crossed ankles.

 

Kurt swats his shoulder lightly. “Um no, none of that, thank you very much.” Kurt chides playfully as he takes his coffee cup from Blaine’s tray gratefully, blowing across the steaming fluffy surface. Blaine has added whipped foam and chocolate sprinkles this morning. “Besides aren’t you Daddy?” 

 

Blaine’s smiles and shakes his head whilst he places the tray down on to the side table. “No, I think I’m just Blaine, or ‘the guy that feeds me’.” He shrugs, “I think he loves you more, anyway.” 

 

Kurt giggles, shaking his head. “Will I be signing adoption papers soon then?” Blaine smiles, buries himself back into the propped up pillows and sighs happily. There is more than enough time to talk about other aspects of their new budding love and hopeful future, other elements, unspoken questions and thoughts. This all feels too good, too right. 

 

“My dad sent me a text.” Kurt says, looking at Blaine, the weight of his phone still in his free hand, obviously spurring on a forgotten thought. 

 

“And?” Blaine replies, calmly and evenly. 

 

“He and Sam are gonna come over later, he’s ok, they had a good night apparently, watching TiVo, drinking beer and eating chips.” Blaine smiles and nods. “He may want to talk to you, but I honestly don’t know, maybe all that needs to be said has been already. But I know that we’re ok. I think that now we’ll be good, we’ll build bridges. I’m starting to feel like me and again, and my dad is like my dad again and it’s all-”

 

Blaine presses whiskery a kiss to his cheek, stubble brushing stubble. He doesn’t wanting to interrupt Kurt he but just cant himself, “Great?” He supplies. Kurt cups his jaw and kisses him back. 

 

“It’s perfect.” 

 

They eat the small buffet of breakfast fingers foods that Blaine had prepared and set up on the small plastic tray, in a comfortable and easy almost silence, occasionally giggling, sharing sticky sweet kisses and feeding each other bites of bread and pastry.

 

Blaine had disappeared a short while ago, after hearing the mutual hungry rumble of their stomachs, ignoring Kurt’s complaints of dressing in a pair of white boxer-briefs, but soon placated at the delicious sight of him swaying his hips and his ass as he left the room, and the fact that they were in fact his own, not Blaine’s. There was something primal and oh so hot about it, something so small yet so big.  
Blaine can still feel the quiver in his thighs and the stretch of his muscles, the aftermath of all of the exertion from earlier that morning, all of the strength and precision he’d used in fucking Kurt until he was clawing at the mattress, whimpering and crying out Blaine’s name in nothing short of utter ecstasy. 

 

Kurt looks up some emails and messages on his phone whilst they eat and Blaine leans into his side, his chin pressed to his shoulder. They discuss up coming meetings and events, aligning and comparing their schedules and what they’re going to wear to the foundation gala that Kurt is cutting the red ribbon for in a few weeks. 

 

Kurt presses his phone to his chest and looks down at Blaine, smiling fondly and eyes shining.  
“We’re really doing this aren’t we?” Blaine looks up at him, eyes crinkled and lips curved in thought, Kurt smiles and kisses him, it’s too hard not to. “Like we’re just looking at our schedules, planning stuff like we always do, fighting about who gets to wear what colour and what desert to order at next weeks dinner with the board of directors, all whilst were just casually, lying here, naked, in bed together-”

 

“Mostly naked-” Blaine supplies, placing the tray and their finished and empty dishes down on the night stand and rolling on to his side to look up at Kurt fully. 

 

“Mostly naked,” Kurt corrects himself, “And that needs to change.” He says, eyes rolling downwards seductively and playfully to the sheet covering Blaine’s lower body. Blaine giggles, his stomach swooping with anticipation. All in good time, he thinks.  
“But it’s pretty great though isn’t it, that we can be like this?” Kurt says, lowering himself down and closer to Blaine.

 

“Yeah,” Blaine breathes, “Of course we’re doing it. And it’s pretty great indeed Fan-freaking-tastic.” He hadn’t actually thought about it, hadn’t actually realised that here they were already interspersing their professional and personal lives like it was second nature, so natural, so easy. They could actually do this, this was all going to be ok, it was going to work. 

 

Kurt bumps their noses together, smiles and pulls Blaine’s lips between his own, “Mine in all ways now,” He teases, “Mine to boss about, mine to-” He squeaks when Blaine tackles him down on to his back, shushing him, arms pinned on either side of his body. 

 

They laugh and kiss, and rub and fondle each other, forgetting about Jester who is politely trying to ignore them whilst he’s jostled around at the foot of the bed. “Last night,” Blaine starts, pulling back slightly. “Last night, you said that I was finally yours?”

 

Kurt nods, cheeks flushing in that way that Blaine loves, he quirks an eye brow meaning that he’s waiting for Blaine to continue. “Well for me there’s no finally about it, I’ve always felt like yours, couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted or anywhere else I wanted to be.” 

 

Kurt’s cheeks colour prettily, “I think that maybe I meant that I finally had you where I wanted you, where I needed you.” Blaine scoffs.

 

“You could have had that from the beginning you idiot, you know that, like I said, always yours.” 

 

“Why do you always have to say stuff like that?” Kurt gushes, poking him, smiling wide and toothy and bright.

 

“Because it’s true,” Blaine stills his tickling, wandering hands. “And I’m not a liar.” Kurt smiles and Blaine recognises it, it’s one of his mischievous, smug grins.

 

“Oh I beg to differ. You in fact are a liar.” He accuses playfully, drawing out his words, deep and husked. 

 

“Oh?” Blaine imitates his tone, their legs sweeping and brushing together underneath the covers. 

 

“Yes, oh. You said that you wouldn’t expect from me, that you didn’t want more and that there were no promises, but you were lying, you wanted it all along-”

 

Blaine feels a little winded, breath and words knocked from him, a little flushed and honestly a little ashamed, but still he cant hide the proud smile that spreads across his face, at the fact that Kurt had been able to figure him out. Kurt had known all along and stayed, still pushed himself, still allowed Blaine to continue to press on their journey of discovery and acceptance and ultimately love.

 

“What can I say? You’ve got me there.” He says quietly, ducking his chin. Kurt catches it within his fingers and guides their lips back together, slowly moulding and shaping perfectly. Blaine almost shivers with the quiet intensity of it all, the warm breaths they share and the gentle scrape and slide of their leg hair. 

 

“Yes I have. And you me.” 

 

*

 

When Burt and Sam arrive, it’s almost dinner time and Kurt and Blaine are in the middle of dancing around each other in the kitchen preparing chunks of grilled chicken, salad and baby organic potatoes. Jester watches them from his perch on the back of one of the couches in the living room, his tail curled around him, thumping pleasantly. 

 

Blaine reheats what he can of last night’s discarded Chinese food, knowing that Sam will be none too pleased if he thinks that food as delicious and unhealthy as that has gone to waste.

 

The unlikely pair exit the elevator with loud greetings and when Sam enters the living room moments later, he wastes no time in hurrying forward, following his nose and seating himself at the island, immediately digging in to flavoured chicken and rice and noodles. 

 

Blaine greets Sam with a smile, a nod and a half assed shoulder nudge and then makes himself busy preparing everyone a drink, purposefully trying to seem like he’s not listening or paying attention to what else is happening in the room, even though truthfully, he really, really is. He cares. 

 

Kurt and Blaine had discussed this earlier, whilst finally peeling themselves away from each other, swapping out the sheets and remaking the bed and starting to mutually shower and dress. Kurt had said that he didn’t want Blaine to leave, he and his dad didn’t need any more private time, they’d already had that yesterday when Kurt had followed him into the elevator. Or as private as walking around central park for hours can get. They talked, they cried, they laughed, they briefly hugged and then called for Sam when it became too cold to try and do anything else.

 

Kurt needs Blaine, like his anchor, his safety net. He’s going to put on his big boy pants and deal, and that starts with finally, actually admitting out loud, his special ‘thing’ with Blaine, whether that be threw actions or words. 

 

Kurt puts down the salad bowl he had been holding and tentatively closes the space between he and his dad as Burt meekly enters the rooms, wringing a baseball cap in his hands. Blaine tries to calm the sudden thump in his chest, the wave of emotion and swell of pride that washes over him as he watches the two men greet each other with tentative smiles and a quick but warm and soft hug and back pat. 

 

They eat huddled around the small kitchen counter space, digging in to the different array of dishes and Blaine and Sam both have to smile when Kurt tries to reprimand his father for spooning an overly large portion of chicken and noodles and fried vegetables rather than the healthier green leaf salad. Barely reunited and back on common ground and familiar terms with each other and Kurt is already back to his good old ways. Old habits die hard. 

 

Quiet, easy chatter, laughter and commentary on subjects such as sports and fashion and even the weather fill the room up into the early evening, and when the dishes have been cleared away and they’re all seated on the living room couches with a slice of pecan cake and liquor coffees, the conversation and atmosphere continues with full force.

 

Sam is on top form tonight with his impressions and gimmicks, seeming to come out of his shell with Burt’s presence, he’s providing the perfect go-between, and his presence is greatly appreciated and enjoyed. 

 

“So I’ve booked a flight back home for tomorrow morning, Sam’s gonna drop me off at the airport.” Burt says airily during a quiet pause in conversation, finishing off his desert and gently placing the plate with a few crumbs scattered around on the floor by his feet. 

 

Jester notices immediately and comes tapping over excitedly, Blaine clicks his fingers and smiles at the affronted expression he’s fired with as Jes slowly backs away from the plate. 

 

“Oh, ok,” Kurt says softly, nodding in response to Burt. He looks a little sad but also a look of understanding crosses his face. Burt waves a hand in the air between the space of the two sofas.

 

“I’ve had a great time kid, you and Blaine have been very accommodating, but it’s time get back. I miss my chair.” He grins and they all share a chuckle.

 

“Shouldn’t you be saying that about your wife?” Kurt asks playfully, and they all nod knowingly and laugh some more. 

 

“You’ll not leave it too long before your back right?” Sam asks, looking at Burt and waggling his foot around on the floor, causing Jester to swerve after his dangling laces. 

 

Burt gives him a shoulder pat beside him and grins happily. “No son, don’t worry I’ll be back, soon.”

 

“Hopefully you’ll bring Carole with you next time too?” Blaine offers from his and Kurt’s sofa. They’re sitting side by side, thighs just resting together, and hands just lingering every now and then, not too intimate, just comfortable, just right.

 

Both Sam and Burt can’t deny that their looks towards the two have been a little long and their knowing smirks have been a little too obvious, though politely so. They’re just happy, they’re just relieved, everybody is. 

 

Kurt straightens beside Blaine and nods excitedly, showing the fact that he approves of the idea of both Burt and Carole coming back to visit soon.

 

“Of course,” Burt says loud and bright. “I’m already anticipating the tongue lashing that I’m gonna get because of what she’s missed out on these past few days.” 

 

And with that Kurt dials her cell number and puts her on loud-speaker, so that the five of them can all catch up and chat collectively and animatedly. The shrieks of delight and curling laughter that occurs could probably be heard from the lobby downstairs, but nobody is in a place of caring about that right now. 

 

The conversation wraps up with a definite planned visit in the next few months, when they can coincide the trip with Independence day or something, and make a real celebration of it. Arrangements for fireworks and hog-roasts and other things are discussed which Kurt rolls his eyes at but Blaine knows that he’s secretly bouncing inside, because so is he. 

 

This is his future, his family. 

 

*

 

A little later that evening Sam brings Blaine’s Xbox down from his room, plugs it into the big screen, and is avidly trying to show Burt how to play a new interactive golfing game. 

 

Blaine has somehow ended up curled up on one side of the other sofa with his guitar in his lap, lazily plucking at the strings while Kurt lingers close to his side, offering his fingers and his smiles often. It’s all so natural, an automatic easy comfort, no limits, no restrictions, no expectations. 

 

Every person within these walls of Kurt’s home, are his home, and Blaine’s, their home. There’s no judgement here, they are just them, they can just be.

 

Of course the moment that Santana chooses to make her grand entrance is the same moment when Kurt bravely moulds his fingers over Blaine’s on the wooden neck of the guitar, sliding smoothly and skilfully along with him as they create a light lovely tune, his eyes a silvery blue, sparkle as he watches what their joint hands are doing, Blaine’s darkening and smouldering by the second.

 

“Oh my god.” Santana throws her arms out dramatically as she slowly paces forward. “Have I entered a twilight zone or somehting?” She says, grinning too widely, eyes pinned on Kurt and Blaine’s hands and then flicking to Burt casually playing video games just a few feet away. It’s all so domestic. 

 

Kurt clucks his tongue at her and Blaine smirks, shaking his head and lightly nudging the guitar so that it bumps into Kurt. It’s a silent sweet gesture, a one that says ‘are you ok? Is this ok?’

 

However Santana ends her outburst there, shrugging out of her jacket and dropping herself down on to the sofa on Kurt’s other side, causing them to bounce a little with the cushions. Sam barely addresses her arrival, not able to peel his eyes away from the screen and Burt chuckles lowly, waving a hand before muttering because he missed out on a vital button press. 

 

“Finally.” She whispers, crossing her legs over Kurt’s lap, her grin proud and smug and reaches over to ruffle Blaine’s hair whilst he tries to continue plucking away softly.

 

“Yeah,” Kurt breathes after some time, just taking it all in. His eyes smiling at Santana, then over at Sam trying to help his dad before he loses the competition and then landing them on heavily on Blaine’s face, his lips parted in concentration, his wet pink tongue darting out adorably. “Finally.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

Epilogue  
…Some years later…

 

Job Title: Personal Assistant

 

Location: New York City, Manhattan

 

Work Pattern: To be negotiated though will be mostly required to start off at three or four week days over five (mostly as and when needed, depending on nature of work that day)

 

Start Date: Negotiable

 

Experience: Not essential, training will be offered

 

Education Level: N/A

 

Salary: $28,000 per year (to be negotiated and compromised depending on circumstance)

 

Brief Job Summary and back story:

 

As you may already be aware, Mr Anderson will continue being solely responsible for Mr Hummel’s personal and business affairs, not only as his fiancé but also as his personal assistant and business associate and representative.  
However because of his own personal rising and rather hectic career and lifestyle, this position will require the use of a Personal Assistant, to work for both Mr Hummel, supporting and assisting with his design business and events among other things occasionally, and also Mr Anderson with the running of his and Mr Hummel’s joint new record label and production company associated with KHummel enterprises.  
This will be a laid back role, with room to grow and learn. Honesty and effort will be greatly appreciated and awarded. 

 

Requirements as follows:  
• Discreet, honest, loyal and trustworthy and highly flexible  
• Able to manage confidential information  
• Exceptional organizational and multi-tasking skills  
• Strong with following-up and attention to detail  
• Proficient in computing and most word programs  
• Ability to prioritize and meet effective deadlines.  
• Excellent communication skills.  
-Candidate must be willing to sign a Non- Disclosure Agreement-

 

If interested and suited to this post, please send an appropriate resume and a short covering letter to;  
Recruitment at: A-H-organization@hmail.com

 

\--Please Note- The position holder will be required to commute from their home to the Anderson-Hummel organization New York City down town offices, and the successful applicant will be contracted for a minimum of six months with a review and the view of seeking to strive and achieve.—

 

Both Mr Hummel and Mr Anderson would like to take this opportunity to warmly thank you for your interest and enthusiasm regarding this post and both their professional and personal journeys, both things which are very close to their hearts, and could not have achieved without continued support from their loyal staff, colleagues and generous fans.

 

…

 

 

…Fin…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final A/N- 
> 
> And there we go. Wow. Thank you all so much for joining me on this little journey, I can’t thank you all enough. Your comments really are a great encouragement and much appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this dear little tale. Please do leave a little comment if you can, it really does mean a lot to read. I’ll miss this story but no doubt I’ll be back soon with something new, there are things already in the works, so subscribe or turn on your author alerts or whatever. You can also catch me over at fictionallylost.tumblr.com if you want. : )
> 
> Thanks a bunch again, love and peace to all x
> 
> P.S There are some one-shots and now a completed sequel- Until Forever for this verse. Please check them out if you wish. Thank you.


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